Season 7 Before Season 7
by EmmyPeters
Summary: My imagining of season 7 of When Calls the Heart before the real season begins.
1. The Dance

This is my own imagining of Season 7 of When Calls the Heart, before the actual season begins. It picks up right where Season 6 left off, at the end of the dance. I'll post as I write each chapter.

Also, please be forewarned I'm #TeamNathan. But I love Lucas too, and will incorporate his story here as well. I'm going to try to have multiple storylines going at the same time, just like the show does.

Anyway, I hope you enjoy reading this as much as I've enjoyed "watching" it in my mind.

Disclaimer: I own none of these characters. They belong entirely to Crown Media. I've only borrowed them to manipulate to my whims. :)

The author

* * *

The Dance

"May I get you some punch?" Lucas Bouchard asked, releasing Elizabeth Thornton from the dance hold as the music ended, turning to face her with his polite question.

"Yes, please," Elizabeth looked up at him and answered, in truth glad of an excuse for his departure. Glad to have a moment to compose herself. Once he'd turned away, Elizabeth let out a long, low sigh and smoothed her hands down the sides of her dress.

It's not that she'd found their dance disturbing. On the contrary, it was nice and pleasant and had made her feel part of her community again, the beginnings of putting the past and the pain of widowhood behind her. And in that regard, her mission in asking him to dance had been accomplished. Lucas was a good man, and she was glad he'd been there for her to overtake that first hurdle.

No, it was the other one that disturbed her. That other one. Him. Elizabeth didn't want to think on it too much. On why Nathan Grant's lingering glance towards her as he'd left the dance should have affected her so. Why, she hardly knew the man! At least that's what she told herself on why the look didn't mean anything, couldn't mean anything. But still, she couldn't deny that something strong, something unnamed, had coursed through her at that moment, or why now, long after he'd left, her gaze was still drawn to the open doorway.

She couldn't. She would not. Elizabeth's spine stiffened in resolve and her glance towards the door turned to a glare, surprisingly fierce. He was a Mounty and she'd been down that road before. She would not visit that pain again, or even the possibility of it. No, if tonight she'd opened her heart to living again, another part of it was just as forcefully tightened shut.

* * *

Closing the front door into his small home, Nathan Grant shrugged off his jacket and tossed it onto a chair. He sat and jerkily yanked first one boot and then the other off his feet, letting them carelessly thud to the floor. He propped his forearms on his knees and he leaned forward, drawing a few ragged breaths as his thoughts travelled back to earlier that night.

He should have known. Tonight at the dance, he should have known, he berated himself. When they'd announced the Ladies' Choice dance and he'd looked for her, he should have known. He wasn't smooth, he wasn't cultured, truth be told he knew himself well enough to say he was a little rough around the edges and too quiet for his own good. But somehow he'd still hoped.

But Elizabeth Thornton had dashed those hopes when she'd chosen another for the dance. Someone far more suited to such a woman. And so he'd left, never in his life feeling more out of place, that he didn't belong there, surprised himself that a simple rejection could have affected him so. And he'd shot her a glance from the door as he left, unable to resist drinking in the sight of her, her beauty, her warmth, her goodness shining from every inch of her.

He should have known, the words taunted him again.

He should have known.


	2. Friends

Friends

It was getting harder and harder to avoid Constable Nathan Grant, Elizabeth Thornton noted as she straightened books on the library shelves a few weeks later. Hope Valley was a small town and it was nigh impossible to avoid one person in every instance. At least it seemed they were both of the same mind, Elizabeth acknowledged with some thankfulness, for she'd caught him more than once avoiding her when their paths seemed like they would cross in the streets.

Elizabeth sighed. It was no more than she was doing to him as well. Going out of her way to avoid him. It was like those first few weeks of acquaintanceship had evaporated and they were strangers again. But they hadn't been. He'd made a placque for the library, had attended her son's christening, exchanged pleasantries with her, and even had brought her her late husband's pension.

But all that was forgotten now. Forgotten because something had shifted between them. Elizabeth glanced up at the placque on the library wall:

_Always do what you are afraid to do –Ralph Waldo Emerson_

She made a face at the words, words that now seemed to mock her. What was it Lucas had said? That the words were either "inspiring or reckless" depending on your view and right now Elizabeth leaned to "reckless".

The door of the library squeaked open and Elizabeth looked up and met the eyes of Lucas Bouchard.

"I thought you might be here," he said and smiled.

"My new favourite place," she replied with a smile of her own.

Every since the dance a few weeks ago, Lucas had become a familiar sight, always making a point to speak with her when they chanced upon each other or in any group assemblies, at church, in the mercantile or cafe. She'd grown used to him, comfortable in his presence, always happy to see his friendly face.

"Elizabeth, listen," Lucas began, approaching her. "There's a concert over at the opera house in Brookfield this Saturday," Lucas began. "I thought you might like to go," he suggested. "It's in the afternoon, so there's plenty of time to get there and back," he explained, mentioning the venue 15 miles away, a distance easily achievable in his new automobile.

"Oh?" Elizabeth replied as she turned to stack more books on the table. She hadn't heard of a planned outing. "Who's all going?" she asked, wondering if it was a church outing or maybe something Rosemary Coulter, Hope Valley's defacto cultural director, had planned.

"No, just us," Lucas Bouchard smiled and dropped his head a little. "Just us, I hope," he added, mindful she had not answered him.

"Oh," Elizabeth replied, meeting his eyes and blinking with sudden understanding.

Maybe it had been naive of her, not to realize her own attractiveness to men. But Elizabeth was like that, unaware of her own beauty, her own desireability. But pleasantries at church or on the street were one thing. An out of town trip alone with a man would send a message to the rest of the town, a message that Elizabeth felt was untrue. Because he was a good man and had been kind to her she sought to let him down gently.

"Lucas, I don't...I don't..." she began, struggling a little for the words.

"Uh oh," Lucas replied, seeing his answer on her face and in her eyes. "Is it...is it too soon?" he asked, gently referring to the fact that she was a widow and newly single.

The easy answer would have been to say yes. But that wouldn't be fair to him, because he would merely wait for her, and she knew in her heart what her feelings were. Elizabeth only had two sisters, perhaps if she'd had a brother she could have more easily named her feelings. A bit protective, a bit teasing, a lot of friend. So she said what was hardest for her but kindest for him.

"It's not too soon," she said. "But you're my friend and I don't...I don't..." she trailed off.

"You don't think of me that way," Lucas finished, fully aware he'd just gotten the "friend" talk.

"And I hope...I hope we're still friends?" she asked, tilting her head in his direction.

"Of course," Lucas Bouchard, replied, with decency and kindness. If he were truthful, he felt a strange sense of relief by her reply. Ever since he'd come to Hope Valley he'd struggled to fit in. Elizabeth Thorton was one of the first, and perhaps still only, one to make him feel he belonged. But maybe it was because she had the magic to do that with everyone.

Lucas Bouchard knew what the town thought of him, a gambler, a man of low repute. Almost in defiance of that opinion, he did what he felt was expected of him. He had pursued the town's beautiful schoolteacher, but that game had quickly soured in the face of her sweetness and goodness. So his relief now was genuine, for she had given him back what he'd wanted all along.

A friend.


	3. Chapter 3

"Yoohoo, Elizabeth!" Florence Blakeley called out, waving her arm above her head as she flagged down Elizabeth Thornton on the streets of Hope Valley.

"Good morning, Florence," Elizabeth replied, coming abreast of the other woman. Elizabeth carried a basket over her arm, she'd been on her way to the mercantile when she'd been interrupted by the gossipy woman.

"Have you heard?" Florence enthused, her voice conspiratorially low as leaned in and touched Elizabeth's arm.

"Heard what?" Elizabeth replied.

"Constable Grant has been transferred!" Florence's eyes widened in emphasis, delighted to be the deliverer of town news, any news. "Imagine, and he's only been here a few months and already..."she snapped her fingers in the air, an imaginary 'poof' of disappearance, her tone disapproving.

"Uh, uh," Elizabeth stuttered at the news. blinking rapidly as she tried to take it in. "Where is he being transferred?"

"Oh, one of those northern places, Blixley or Bloxley or something," Florence waved her hand dismissively, not too bothered by details. "But can you believe it? Only a couple of months..." she trailed off, repeating the constable's short tenure in Hope Valley.

Elizabeth thought back to his arrival, doing a quick calculation. Four and a half months, actually. She stared into space a moment, her thoughts jumbled and jarred.

"And what about you?" Florence's question brought her back.

"Me?" Elizabeth asked, startled. Whyever would Florence think news about Hope Valley's mountie had anything to do with her?

"Any news with you? Heard from Abigail lately?" Florence expanded the question.

Elizabeth let out her breath in relief. Florence had already moved on to other topics. For some panicked moment she thought Florence was asking her feelings about the mountie leaving, something she did not want to think about, let alone share.

"Yes I have," Elizabeth nodded. "I had a letter just yesterday," Elizabeth informed her, understanding her obligation now to relay the contents. "Her mother is still doing poorly, so she doesn't know when she'll be back," she reported to Florence's aww's of sympathy. "But there is some good news," Elizabeth perked. "She's sending Cody back here to Hope Valley."

"Oh?" Florence asked with surprise.

"Yes, she doesn't want him to miss any more school and with her Mother so ill and taking up so much of her time caring for her, she thought it would be best for Cody to be here. She knows he misses his friends."

"Aww," Florence crossed her hands over her heart at Abigail's thoughtfulness. "And where will he stay?" she asked.

"Abigail's made arrangements for him to stay with Robert and his family," Elizabeth informed her.

"Aww," Florence patted her heart again and her head tilted at the sweetness, knowing the two boys were best friends. "That's so nice to hear," she said. "And the town will take care of him," she added, in case there was any worry.

"Yes, we will," Elizabeth smiled in agreement, knowing that singular truth of the town she now called home and the people in it.

They always took care of their own.


	4. Chapter 4 (Peaches)

See? See? Elizabeth's mind taunted the question as she continued down the street towards the mercantile after her meeting with Florence and the startling news she had carried, Elizabeth's thoughts still muddled.

See? He was going away as they did, as they always would. It was the Mountie way. Perhaps sooner than expected, but did that matter? The outcome was the same, always the same. Elizabeth's emotions warred inside her, one of them triumphant. She had spared herself and remained untouched. The fragile fragments of her heart would not have to bear a painful parting anew. Not again, a truth. Never again, a vow.

Elizabeth lifted her skirts, climbing the mercantile stairs. She opened the door at the top, a bell's tinkle announcing her entrance. Barely inside, she spotted a bright flash of red surge and, startled by the unexpected, she gave a sharp intake of breath and turned to quickly leave.

"Oh Elizabeth!" Ned Yost, the town's friendly merchant, hailed her from his spot behind the counter, halting her exit as she turned back towards him, her hand still on the doorknob. "I've got those canned peaches you ordered. Just in the back, let me go get them," he helpfully informed her, sidling out from behind the counter and heading to the stockroom.

Elizabeth sighed, realizing there was no escape. She closed the door behind her, taking a few steps inside the room. She stood, looking high around her, pretending a keen interest in the store's wares.

Across the store, Constable Nathan Grant, perusing a neatly piled row of canned goods, shot Elizabeth a glance from under his lashes. Her stance invited no greeting so he made none. They were alone in the room, heightened sounds from the street outside magnified by the silence within.

How long did it take to find a few cans of peaches? Elizabeth fretted uncomfortably. It seemed like Ned Yost was taking a long time, or maybe it just seemed that way to her as she waited for the uncomfortable moments to pass, keenly aware of the room's sole other occupant. Had that stain always been there? she wondered inanely, her head tilted high as she squinted at the ceiling..

Finally, Elizabeth, purveyor and protector of words, could not stand the silence any longer and she lowered her head with a sigh.

"I'll miss Allie," she said, her statement directed at the blur of red surge.

Nathan Grant raised his head from the row of cans. Was she talking to him? Belatedly he realized of course she was, he was the only one there. "Pardon?" he said, not understanding.

"I'll miss Allie at school," Elizabeth elaborated.

"What?" Nathan replied, still not understanding.

"I'll miss Allie at school when you leave," Elizabeth said.

"Leave?" said Nathan.

Elizabeth sighed. His one word replies certainly weren't helping to advance the conversation. And then she realized. It was likely that Florence's news about his leaving came from unofficial rather than official sources and that the town's new Mountie mightn't have wanted his departure to be common knowledge just yet.

"Hope Valley is a small town, Constable," Elizabeth said as Nathan came up alongside her, laying his purchases on the store's counter. "News travels fast," she stated the implication, regarding him from the corner of her eyes.

"I see," Nathan replied, fishing in the pouch at his waist for some change, his mind working the information, quiet as he pieced it together, now realizing what most of the town must think.

When it became obvious no further response was forthcoming, Elizabeth turned to him fully. "Well?" she almost demanded, frustrated by his non-disclosure.

Nathan placed some coins on the counter and turned to Elizabeth, the first time they had been face-to-face in weeks.

"If you're referring to the transfer to Brumley, I turned it down," he informed her.

Elizabeth's mouth opened in a small gape of surprise. "But...but...can you do that?" she wondered. Could he do that? Weren't all transfers mandatory?

Nathan smiled at her confusion. "The assignment was an offer, Mrs. Thornton, not an order," he corrected her. At her look of incomprehension he clarified, "I'm the sole guardian of a minor child. The Force does make allowances. They're not totally heartless."

"I didn't mean that...I didn't mean...," Elizabeth faltered, feeling sheepish.

"Allie's doing really well here and I'm not going to take her away from that," he explained. Oh, maybe he would have taken the assignment in earlier days, when it was easier to move a small child, but he knew Allie was getting older and it was harder to uproot her from schools and friends. "And I like it here too," he confessed.

"But what about..." Elizabeth trailed off.

"What about what?"

"What about your dream?" Elizabeth wondered.

"What dream?"

"You know, the Mountie dream. Travel. Adventure..." she trailed off, waving her hand.

Nathan tilted his head and squinted at her. "Is that the Mountie dream?" he asked her. "And protecting a town isn't a Mountie dream?"

"No, no, I didn't say that!" Elizabeth replied. He was confusing her words, getting her muddled. She tried to work it out in her mind how one dream could be different from another. Jack had had the Mountie's wanderlust, she had known that from the start, and part of her had loved him for it, his call to duty and country. But she could not deny the partings had been difficult.

"Well, I"m glad you're staying," Elizabeth opined, then realizing how that must sound, she added, "for Allie's sake," and then realizing that too sounded a rudeness she bit her lip in confusion as Nathan merely stared silently back at her.

"Here are your peaches!" Ned Yost strode cheerfully back into the room, a jar of peaches in each hand. "Sorry it took so long, I had to dig around a bit for them," he chuckled at his own disorganization.

Gratefully Elizabeth loaded the cans into her basket and placed some change on the counter.

"Goodday," she nodded to Ned and Nathan, glad of an end to their conversation, both men watching her as she departed.

At the mercantile entrance, Elizabeth opened the door then backed up a little to admit a new arrival.

"Oh hello, Allie," Elizabeth said, stepping back to allow the child's entrance.

"Hello," Allie replied politely and quietly, not meeting her teacher's eyes.

Elizabeth stood a moment in the doorway as she watched Allie cross over to her uncle, her brow furrowed and perplexed. There was no denying Elizabeth Thornton had a way with children, a special gift almost in understanding them and something now niggled in Elizabeth's heart, a peculiar sense that something was amiss. She cast a final worried look at Allie before heading out of the store.

"Now don't go spending all your allowance on candy," Nathan Grant instructed his niece with a smile when she drew near him, as he finished his purchases at the counter.

"I won't," Allie replied, her thoughts elsewhere than on candy as she surveyed the jars of brightly coloured sweets. No, she wouldn't be buying candy or anything else today. She'd need all the money she had, and more. For if news of the town constable's transfer had discombobulated Elizabeth Thornton then they had done no less for Allie. And in her mind, it was decided. It was time. If she was to make her plan, she'd need all the money she had. And more.


	5. Chapter 5 (Allie)

It was the start of a school day and Elizabeth Thornton stood at the front of the classroom a few weeks later, the arrival chatter of children filling her ears. As the students settled, her eyes scanned the room, acknowledging one filled seat with pleasure and one vacant one with concern. Cody was back with them, recently returned just a few days ago from the east, filling his once vacant spot and Elizabeth was happy for that. But there was that other one now, that other vacant seat.

It was probably alright, Elizabeth thought to herself and shook her head, shaking away the worry. Students missed school when they were ill, perhaps Nathan had kept Allie home today and that accounted for her absence. Surely she wasn't playing hooky again?

"Alright," Elizabeth clapped her hands together for attention, quieting the room. "Let's begin our lesson," she announced to the class, turning towards the blackboard and picking up a piece of chalk.

But as the morning wore on, some niggling worry began to grow and Elizabeth finally snapped shut the book she held in her hand, tossing it aside before striding down the aisle of the schoolhouse.

"Robert and Cody, you're in charge of the class, I need to leave for a bit," she instructed over her shoulder as she left, the two boys exchanging looks of surprise and perhaps mischievous delight. Who knew what classroom chaos Elizabeth would return to but she didn't care, she only knew she had to relieve her mind about the missing child.

Nathan Grant looked up in surprise from his desk in his office at the slight rap on the door only to be more surprised when Elizabeth Thornton entered.

"Mrs. Thornton," he stood, wondering at her arrival.

"I just wanted to ask about Allie," Elizabeth said, approaching his desk. "If she was feeling well."

"Why wouldn't she be feeling..." Nathan stopped abruptly, in sudden realization. That Mrs. Thornton was here in the middle of school day, asking about his child that she should have seen more recently than he. A similar realization came to Elizabeth as she read Nathan's expression and realized that Allie was not home sick after all.

"Nathan, Allie hasn't been in school all morning," Elizabeth quickly and somewhat urgently informed him, using his first name, her previous formal addresses suddenly replaced by the familiar.

Nathan let out of low hiss and brushed past Elizabeth out the door. Surely Allie wasn't playing hooky again? he wondered. She hadn't done that in a long time, not since their arrival in town all those months ago.

A short time later, Nathan flung open the door to his small house. "Allie!" he called out, then spotted her fishing rod in its usual place propped in the corner. It wasn't hooky then, he realized. "Allie!" he called again, up the stairwell this time.

"Nathan!" Elizabeth urgently called his name from the doorway, having followed him to his house.

Nathan spun around at his name, to find Elizabeth pointing across the room to a piece of paper folded neatly and propped on the windowsill. Nathan took several long strides towards it and grabbed it, scanning the contents in alarm.

"She's run away," he ground out.

"Oh no!" Elizabeth exclaimed, rushing to his side to read the note in his hands. It only said she was leaving and not to try to find her and not to worry.

"Why would she go? Why would she leave?" Nathan asked, worry in his voice.

"I'll go ask the children if they know anything," Elizabeth told him, turning to rush out, already knowing Nathan would organize a search, almost immediately feeling his presence behind her as they both responded to the urgent situation.

Inside the schoolhouse, Elizabeth stood at the front of the room and quizzed the children. "Does anyone know where Allie might have gone? Did she say anything to anyone?" she asked, her voice and manner telegraphing import. The children eyed each other, shaking their heads in the negative before looking back to their teacher. Elizabeth sighed in frustration. "Did she do or say anything that seemed unusual?" Elizabeth tried again, searching for some information, anything that might help them.

"Um..." Robert began, not sure if it mattered.

"Robert?" Elizabether prodded.

"It's probably not important," Robert continued. "But she sold me her fishing pole a few days ago. Said I could get it at the end of the week, but to pay her for it now."

Elizabeth's brow furrowed.

"Yeah," chimed in Grace. "She sold me some beads the other day," she said, as more and more children began recounting items Allie had recently sold them. Elizabeth puzzled on it...why would Allie sell all her things? What was the money for? she wondered, just as she heard the whistle of a distant train.

Suddenly on instinct Elizabeth thought she might know and she flew from the room, calling back over her shoulder to the children, "Stay here."

Elizabeth raced down to the train station, more than half a mile away, drawing up her skirts as she ran. Breathlessly she arrived at the ticket window.

"Did a little girl get on the train today? About ten years old, ponytail," Elizabeth gulped out to the ticket seller.

The man rubbed his jaw thoughtfully, recounting passengers. "Nope," he replied, as Elizabeth slumped at his answer. "But there's one in the waiting room over that way," he added helpfully, leaning out of the way and pointing over his shoulder.

Elizabeth followed the direction of his finger, peering into the building and spotting Allie sitting on a bench. She let out a long sigh of relief, then thanked the ticket seller. "Oh, could you call the Hope Valley switchboard? Please?" she pleaded. "Tell them to get word to Constable Grant. Tell them just to say that Allie is at the train station. Allie is at the train station," she repeated the message. "Please, can you do that?"

"Well, alright, I guess so" the ticket seller shrugged.

"Thank you," Elizabeth replied thankfully as she placed a hand to her heart and took a deep breath, trying to slow her breathing.

Elizabeth entered the station house, her eyes adjusting to the lower light. Slowly she approached Allie, and gingerly sat next to her. The child looked over at her.

"Where are you going, Allie?" Elizabeth met her eyes to ask.

"I dunno, anywhere," Allie replied, looking away.

"Allie, why are you leaving?" Elizabeth tried again but there was only silence. "Your uncle is worried about you, Allie," she stold her.

"He doesn't have to worry about me," Allie finally responded. "He doesn't have to take care of me anymore."

"Allie!" Elizabeth exclaimed in shock.

"Don't you see? Don't you see?" Allie's tone was plaintive. "He can go wherever he wants to now. He doesn't have to stay here because of me," she said. She'd heard about his transfer offer, knew he'd turned it down. Knew why.

"Allie, it's not just you, your uncle wants to stay here. He told me so," Elizabeth said, trying to convince her. "Allie, he loves you. Surely you know that," she said.

Allie shrugged, and Elizabeth had a blinding realization that maybe she didn't know. That maybe she'd never heard the words.

"Allie, your uncle wants you to stay. I know he does," Elizabeth told her.

"He's better off without me," Allie said, resignation in her voice.

Elizabeth sighed, sensing she was making no headway, as she looked away to a far window to gather her thoughts. Suddenly she saw something coloured bright red descend from a hilltop.

"Allie, I'll be right back," she said, patting the child's knee.

Elizabeth reached Nathan just as he was tying his horse to the hitch.

"Where is she?" Nathan asked Elizabeth with urgency when he saw her.

"She's inside," Elizabeth inclined her head, then stepped in front of Nathan when he made to bound past her.

"Nathan, wait," she said, knowing she had to prepare him, of things he needed to know. "Nathan, Allie thinks..." Elizabeth hesitated over the words, knowing how painful they were going to be. "Allie thinks it's her fault you're staying here. She thinks she's a burden to you and that you'd be better off without her."

"What?" Nathan blinked, shocked and incredulous.

"She thinks maybe you don't want her," Elizabeth relayed the painful information.

"Why?" Nathan cried. "Why would she think that?" he asked, uncomprehending, the hurt palpable in his voice. "Haven't I've always kept her with me? Made a home for her? Taken care of her?" he recited all the ways he'd shown that he wanted her, that he loved her, the hurt in his voice only increasing.

"I know, I know," Elizabeth acknowledged soothingly. "Those are all wonderful, important things. But Allie is a child, Nathan. She needs to hear the words. She needs to hear that you love her," Elizabeth told him, knowing that no matter how much she herself tried to convince Allie of her uncle's love, it was his words that mattered, not hers.

Nathan shook his head, struggling with the truth. "The words are hard for me," he confessed. "I'm not good with the words." he said. He'd always been a quiet man, sparse with words, and these ones did not come easy for him.

"You don't have to be good," Elizabeth replied, both reassuring and hopeful. "You just have to tell her what's in your heart. The words are there, Nathan, in your heart," Elizabeth told him as she met his eyes, a question forming in hers. Could he do that? Would he try?

Seeing the question, Nathan made a small nod in reply, and Elizabeth let out her breath in relief. She led him to the station house door, turning the handle to enter. Standing just inside the door, Nathan's eyes found his niece. She was sitting on a bench in the corner, turned away from them with her eyes averted out the window. He stood a moment, watching her, the apple in his throat bobbing as he swallowed hard.

Elizabeth looked up at him for a second, then brushed past him in Allie's direction, bending forward when she reached the child to touch her shoulder. "Allie, your uncle is here." she said, then straightened.

Allie turned her head and met her uncle's eyes briefly before she turned again, her gaze directed once more out the window. Elizabeth looked between the two, then returned to Nathan's side. She made to move past him, intending to leave them alone.

"No, stay," Nathan said, reaching out a hand to Elizabeth's arm to stop her, meeting her eyes. "Please," he implored.

Elizabeth nodded and turned, standing with her hands clasped in front of her. Nathan made his way over to his niece and crouched low before her.

"Allie, you're not leaving without me, are you?" he questioned lightly, receiving only a disinterested shrug in response as Allie continued her gaze out the window.

Nathan pivoted from his crouched position to look back at Elizabeth, uncertainty in his eyes. Elizabeth sent him a reassuring look and nod and he turned back towards his niece.

"Allie...," he began.

"It's okay, Uncle Nathan," Allie interrupted. "I know what's what."

"Allie?" Nathan replied, confused.

"I'm not a little kid anymore, you know," she informed him, something both hard and hurt in her voice. "I know what's what."

"And what do you know?"

"I know I got dumped on you. That you got stuck with me because there wasn't anybody else to take me," she said flatly, her gaze determinedly fixed out the window and away from him.

"Allie, that's not..." Nathan stopped, knowing he couldn't deny what held a basis of truth, even one expressed so harshly. No, he sensed that a denial now would only alienate her further. He took a deep breath. "Allie, I was just starting out as a Mountie when you...when you came to me," he said, trying at least to soften the words. "I was just starting out and I didn't know anything about raising a little girl," he said, shaking his head at the remembrance. "But I kept you with me. I kept you with me because I wanted you, Allie," he said, trying to convince her.

Allie swallowed and blinked, the only evidence of a reaction to his words as she continued looking out the window, unmoving and unmoved.

Nathan sighed and shook his head, turning it from side to side as he struggled to find the words, to find some way to reach her. What had Elizabeth said? Tell her what's in your heart. That the words were there. So he stilled himself, and looked to his heart, then told her what was written there.

"It's been a long time since I've thought of you as my niece, Allie. In my heart you're my daughter, and I love you, and I want you to stay," he told her, the words simple and tender and pure.

It was then that the facade finally crumbled, and Allie dropped her head, breaking out into small heartbreaking sobs.

"Really? Your daughter?" she asked unbelieving, finally turning to look at him, her voice and face streaked with tears.

Nathan nodded. "Really."

Allie flew at him then, winding her arms around his neck and burying her face sideways into his shoulder. "I don't want to go. I want to stay here with you," she cried, her voice muffled into his body.

Nathan wound his arms around Allie's back and tightened her to him. "I want that too," he said. "Hey, hey," he soothed at her continued sobs, as he rubbed her back. "We'll get through this, you and me," he said in a reassuring tone.

Allie's sobs quieted to sniffles and she pulled back to look at him. Nathan smiled at a hiccup and laid his palm along her cheek to wipe her tears with his thumb. Then he looked directly in her eyes, holding her gaze. "You and me, we're a team, remember?" he said, smiling when she nodded agreement. "Good," he said softly, leaning forward to press a kiss to her forehead. "Come on, let's go home," he said, drawing them both to their feet.

As Nathan and Allie rose from their places, Elizabeth spun from the room and headed out the door and down the station verandah, her steps quick and choppy as she hurried away. She wiped tears from her face with the backs of her hands, not wanting Nathan to see them or her. She didn't know why the scene had affected her so deeply, but it had.

She came to a stop in a quiet corner of the verandah and turned slightly away, hoping to go unnoticed. This time was for them, and she would not intrude. She watched them from the corner of her eye as they descended the verandah steps. She watched Nathan gather his horse's reigns and take Allie's hand and lead them away. Stepping from the shadows, Elizabeth was surprised to see Nathan suddenly stop and stiffen in awareness before he looked back, his eyes meeting hers, He spoke, two soft words carried back to her.

"Thank you." He held her eyes a moment, before he gave in to Allie's tugs to his hand and turned.

Elizabeth eyes followed them down the road as she watched them go, something singing sweetly in her heart.

* * *

"Class dismissed!" Elizabeth Thornton announced at the end of the school day two weeks later. She stacked some books on her desk, straightening up a bit, then trailed behind the departing students, standing on the front stoop of the school as she closed the doors behind her. She paused at the top of the stoop when she spotted Nathan Grant coming towards her. He'd taken to coming most school days, to meet Allie and walk her home. It had been a kind of assurance, Elizabeth thought, a kind of rebuilding of the relationship between uncle and niece, since that difficult time two weeks ago.

"Good afternoon, Elizabeth," Nathan said as he drew near, coming to stand at the bottom of the stoop.

"Good afternoon, Nathan," Elizabeth replied. The former formality between the two had evaporated since that day at the train station, since she'd helped him with Allie, replaced by an easy companionship.

"Is Allie...," he began to ask his niece's whereabouts when the child suddenly appeared and yanked on his arm.

"Can I go play at Anna's house?" she asked, wanting to forgo their new routine of walking home together just this time. "Please, Uncle Nathan!" she enthusiastically begged, yanking his arm and jumping up and down a little in excitement.

"Oh I suppose," Nathan smiled with a mock suffering sigh. "But just for two hours," he instructed as the child immediately and happily turned to run a few steps before Nathan called her back.

"Hey, get back here. You forgot something," he admonished lightly.

Allie immediately returned, flying back to Nathan to wrap her arms around his trunk, her head pressed sideways against him. Nathan wrapped his arms across her shoulders in return and gave a few tight squeezes.

"I love you," he said.

"I love you, too," Allie replied, before she turned out of his arms and ran happily away, her uncle's eyes following her.

Watching from her place on the stoop above, Elizabeth had drawn a surprised breath at the exchange, then remained still. A moment passed and it was Nathan who finally spoke.

"Words are powerful things," he observed, his eyes remaining fixed on his niece, now far in the distance.

"They are indeed," Elizabeth replied to his profile.

"They get easier," Nathan paused, then swivelled, meeting her eyes for emphasis "...with practise.".

A soft smile touched Elizabeth's lips. "They do indeed," she agreed, some unspoken understanding passing between them.

A faint smile on his own lips, Nathan touched a hand to the brim of his hat, then turned and walked away.


	6. Chapter 6 (Power)

Power

* * *

Elizabeth Thornton sat at the desk in her home, writing in her journal, her shawl wrapped loosely around her shoulders. It was late in the evening and she should really head to bed but these few quiet moments at the end of the day were a time of reflection, a way to still and compile her thoughts and she was loath to give them up. Little Jack was already alseep, hopefully for the night, Elizabeth mentally added with a smile, as she tilted her head and scratched words onto paper, recounting her life in Hope Valley.

Elizabeth suddenly jerked in surprise, her pen stilled in mid-stroke. The light from the small electric lamp before her had suddenly gone dark. It had been the only light in the room and the room was now almost completely black, lit by only the moonlight streaming in from a nearby window. Elizabeth tried the switch on the lamp, flicking it a few times without response before she fumbled in the drawer in front of her for a candle and lit it with a match.

The candle in hand Elizabeth got up, and tried another lamp and then another, all unresponsive to her touch. Puzzled she went to the front window and bent a little to peer out, trying to glimpse the houses nearby, but she could not get a good view at such an angle, so she straightened, reached for the doorknob and headed out onto her front stoop.

"Elizabeth," Elizabeth turned at her name. Rosemary Coulter, her next door neighbour was on her own stoop, also a candle in hand, their eyes meeting in the semi-darkness. "Yours out too?" Rosemary asked, referring to the electrical outage.

"Hmmhmm," Elizabeth replied in the affirmation, nodding her head. Both women craned their necks to look down the length of row houses.

"Looks like the whole row is out," Rosemary observed, no light coming from the windows of any of the adjoining homes. "I wonder what...," she trailed off.

"I don't know," Elizabeth puzzled with her, wondering at the sudden loss of electricity.

"Oh well," Rosemary turned back to her cheerfully with a light shrug. "I guess it's back to kerosene!" she added brightly with a smile. She turned and made to go back inside her home, pausing with a hand on the doorknob. "Goodnight, Elizabeth," she uttered with a friendly warmth.

"Goodnight, Rosemary," Elizabeth echoed and smiled sweetly, acknowledging the friendship and closeness between the two women, before she too headed back inside, not unduly worried. The power sometimes went off, it happened, especially in these early years since it'd been first brought to the town.

It wasn't until the next morning that the full extent of the problem became known. Bill Avery stood in the middle of the street in Hope Valley, his hands on his hips as he looked around, trying to piece the puzzle. The power to his home had gone off last night, and now there was none in his office either.

"Bill!" Lee Coulter spotted the sheriff and judge in the middle of the street, calling to hail him before he jogged up to him. "The power's out at the mill. Do you know anything about it?" Lee asked. He couldn't run the mill without power, not since it'd been converted to electricity several years ago.

"Nope," Bill supplied and sighed, wondering what was happening.

"Sheriff!" It was Lucas Bouchard who came to him next. "The electricty's off at the saloon," he informed him.

"I know, it appears we have a situation here," Bill announced, turning to scan around as more and more townsfolk approached, each with a story of unfulfilled power.

"There's no power at the school either," Elizabeth said as she hurried to the assembled group, as they began to eye each other in concern.

Bill continued to scan the group, his eyes stopping on one lone figure. "Henry?" he asked. "Do you know anything?" Henry Gowen had been the former town mayor, formerly engaged in the town's workings. Even though he was no longer mayor, perhaps he knew something of their current situation.

At Henry's negative head shake, Bill sighed.

Spotting the assembled group in the middle of town on his way to his office, Constable Grant swiftly drew up to them. He spotted Elizabeth Thornton amongst them, his eyes quickly meeting then leaving hers, before he asked, "What's going on here?"

"Power's out," Bill informed him. "Whole town," he added. This wasn't just an isolated issue of a house or two. Power had been cut to the whole town.

Nathan's brow furrowed. He'd know the power was out at his house last night, but didn't realize the whole town would be affected.

"Why is that?" Nathan wondered aloud.

"I don't know, but I aim to find out," Bill announced as he suddenly turned and stalked off in the direction of the Mayor's office, the townsfolk trailing after him.

Reaching the Mayor's office, Bill threw open the door and stepped in side, eyeing the pile of envelopes scattered across the surface of the mayor's desk. He strode to the desk and picked up a letter, tearing it open. Reading the contents he threw it aside, to pick up another and repeat the process, his expression growing darker with each corresponding letter.

"What is it?" Nathan asked him, as other townsfolk hovered around: Elizabeth, Henry, Lee, Lucas, Florence and others.

"Bills," Bill ground out. "Unpaid bills," he clarified the letters, increasingly urgent, from Union Power, the company contracted to supply electricity to Hope Valley. "Hasn't anyone been taking care of this?" he asked the assembled group, shaking a letter in his hand.

Bill sighed when he was met with blank expressions. It had been many months since Abigail Stanton, Hope Valley's mayor, had left town to care for her mother. Perhaps they'd all just assumed she'd be returning shortly and could resume her duties, not fully realizing the implications of a longer departure.

"Well, we need someone to look after this," Bill ground out. "Town doesn't run itself. We need a mayor," he summarized, before he suddenly looked up. "Henry?" he breathed the suggestion out with the one word.

Understanding the implication, Henry Gowen shook his head. No, that was Abigail's job now. Not his. That was his former life, his former self.

"Henry, we need a mayor. Or an acting one. And you're the only one with experience," Bill stated convincingly.

All eyes turned to Henry Gowen. "No Bill, I can't do it."

"Can't or won't?" Bill challenged.

"I've got my own business to run," Henry said, referring to the recently opened oil company Gowen Enterprises.

"Well, you were mayor before when you ran the...the mine," Bill countered that it was possible to do both.

At Henry's continued silence, Bill strong-armed, "Look Henry, either you become acting mayor now, or we elect a new one," his implication clear. If Henry did not step to the plate now, then Abigail Stanton would lose her position as mayor.

Henry swallowed. It was the least he could do. The least he could for Abigail. To ensure her job would still be there for her when she returned. Besides, wouldn't it easier? Wouldn't it make his whole plan easier? If he were on this side of the mayor's desk and not the other?

"Alright Bill," Henry reared his head back a little to meet Bills' eyes as his conceded to the offer.

"Alright, good," Bill said. "Everybody go on back now," he ordered, the group filing out, leaving just Henry and Bill. His hand on the doorknob as he made to close it behind him, Bill shot Henry a final look.

"Good luck, Henry," Bill said, a note of sincerity in his voice.

Henry met Bill's eyes in silent reply, then watched as Bill closed the door. Alone in the room now, Henry moved to the mayor's desk and sat in the chair behind the massive structure. Slowly, carefully, he ran his hands across the top, running them forward and back, feeling the deep, rich, dark wood beneath his palms. His first order of business would be to return the power. To return the power to Hope Valley. The double meaning was not lost on him. It was a return of power. Theirs.

And his.


	7. Chapter 7 (Dang)

Author's note: Thank you to anyone following along with my story, and sorry to the last poster about messing up that Henry was banned from being mayor as part of his sentencing. I sometimes get a little sketchy with details about the show, I watch it but don't really re-watch to catch all the fine points. But I needed/wanted him to be mayor for my plot, so he is. Also, I lied. In my first post I said I would like to write Lucas' story in the future, but I'm going to try and incorporate it here now, that's how the show does it, all the stories concurrently so he'll get his too. Oh and one more thing...please suspend your disbelief in things coming down the road...there's a plotline coming up down the road a ways and I really don't know a lot technically about how things work to be entirely accurate, so I'm just going to wing it and hope you all just follow the story allowing a bit of leniency for any misinformation or inaccuracy. Oh by the way too, the chapter titles aren't really titles, just little cue words to remind me what chapter I'm working on. Thanks all, now back to Hope Valley!

* * *

Rosemary Coulter looked out the front window of the dress shop anxiously. Where was he? Where was that husband of hers? He was supposed to be here 10 minutes ago to pick her up and Rosemary did not want to be late. But she knew it was probably hard for him to get away from the mill, in the middle of the afternoon, long before the end of the work day. It wasn't exactly easy for her to get away either, Rosemary thought, but she'd managed to get Clara to mind the dress shop for her.

"Whew!" Rosemary let out in relief, as she straightened away from the window, having spotted Lee's automobile heading in her direction.

"Clara, I'm off now," she called over her shoulder as she went out the front door, standing on the walkway outside as her husband pulled up alongside her. Rosemary did not even wait for Lee to get out and open her door but she immediately reached for the handle and climbed inside.

"You ready?" Lee turned to her to ask gently, his gaze locking to his wife's.

Rosemary inhaled, exhaling "Yeah" in reply, something deep and important passing between them.

"Okay," Lee said as he straightened back, turning the wheel of the automobile and pulling out into the street.

Sitting on the schoolhouse stoop while her students played around her during afternoon recess, Elizabeth Thornton looked up at the passing automobile, her brow puzzled when she recognized the occupants. Lee and Rosemary. Lee and Rosemary heading out of town on a Tuesday afternoon workday. Not given long to puzzle on the strange anomaly, Elizabeth reached for the cowbell beside her, ringing it loudly and calling her students back to class.

* * *

Lucas Bouchard stood in the doorway of one his guestrooms at his saloon, his hands on his hips and his head tilted way, way to the side, his eyes squinting a bit as he took in the sight.

"Miss Miller, I presume," he drawled in amusement, running his eyes over a pair of black stocking-covered ankles, their owner laying prone on the floor along a wall, a dresser pushed out of the way and obscuring most of her body behind it. But there was no mistaking those ankles, or who they belonged to. Fiona Miller and the scandalous display of her ankles had set the town afire since her arrival in Hope Valley.

Hearing her name, Fiona reared up from her place behind the bureau, emitting a painful "Oww" when she hit a low windowsill on her way up, a hand to the bump on her head.

"Please, don't get up on my account," Lucas drawled for the second time, a small smirk playing about his mouth.

But Fiona was already on her way up, brushing her skirt as she rose, a display of handtools scattered around her along with a great deal of telephone wire.

"Lucas, are you sure you want telephones in _all _the rooms?" she asked. She'd only just begun to install the necessary wiring but it seemed a daunting task, installing telephones in all the guestrooms of the Queen of Hearts saloon.

"Hope Valley may be a small town," Lucas countered. "But I offer world class accomodation," he explained his desire to equip his hotel with the most modern of conveniences, that now being telephones in each room.

"I know," Fiona conceded. "It just seems a big job."

"Well, if you don't think you can handle it...," Lucas trailed off, raising a brow at her and shooting her a look.

Fiona's chin immediated jutted at the challenge. "I can do it," she announced firmly, something in her eyes firing back at him.

"Well then, I'll leave you to it," Lucas said, the smirk back, before he turned to leave.

Only getting a few steps away along the hallway, Lucas heard a thump and then a few muffled, "dang, dang, dang,"s, presumbly coming from Miss Miller as she bumped her way back down to the floor. Lucas shook his head, a small smile tugging at the corner of his mouth.


	8. Chapter 8 (The Dress)

For the poster wanting more Elizabeth-Nathan interactions...see, I wasn't going to write another chapter so soon, but look what a little encouragement can do! LOL

* * *

"Rosemary?" Elizabeth popped her head into the dress shop on her way home from school one night a week later. She spotted her friend inside the room, her mouth full of pins as she worked fabric over a dummy in front of her, fashioning a dress. "Hey," Elizabeth greeted, coming further into the room

"Oh Elizabeth, hello," Rosemary said, after she'd removed the pins from her mouth but her eyes stayed firmly fixed on the dress in front of her.

"What are you doing here so late?" Elizabeth asked, curious. It was close to suppertime and Rosemary should have left long ago for home.

"Oh, just trying to catch up on some orders," Rosemary answered, as she concentrated on her work, eyeing the fabric as she shifted it around in various configurations. She'd missed so many afternoons at work, she'd taken to staying a bit later each day to catch up.

"Rosemary...," Elizabeth began, trailing off. She'd noticed her good friend's late hours lately too. And had noticed something else. She'd noticed Rosemary and Lee leaving town in the afternoons, several times this week in fact. And she'd begun to wonder what was up.

"Hmm," Rosemary replied noncomittaly before she finally looked over to meet Elizabeth's eyes and saw both curiosity and concern there. "What?" she shot back.

"That's what I'd like to know," Elizabeth countered. "What. As in what's going on," she added.

"Going on? What makes you think something's going on?" Rosemary feigned innocence and shrugged lightly.

"Rosemary," Elizabeth drew out her name. "I know something's going on. You and Lee leaving town in the afternoons. And...and...," Elizabeth stalled her when Rosemary attempted to interrupt..."and don't tell me you're just going on a Sunday drive, when it's not even Sunday."

"Elizabeth," Rosemary let out a sigh, knowing the gig was up. "I'll tell you, I promise I will, just...," she hesitated, "...just not yet, okay?" her eyes pleading for understanding.

"Alright," Elizabeth conceded to her friend's wishes with one caveat. "But just as long as you tell me everything is okay," her concern for her friend outweighing her curiosity.

"Everything is fine," Rosemary told her reassuringly.

"Okay then," Elizabeth smiled, then turned to go. "Listen, can I pick up anything for you at the mercantile? I'm stopping in on my way home," she offered.

"No, I have everything I want," Rosemary replied, mentally adding, well maybe not everything, as she said goodbye to Elizabeth and watched her go.

At the mercantile, Elizabeth was just finishing up her purchases when Ned Yost startled her with a sudden request.

"Oh Elizabeth, would you mind taking this box of tea to Constable Grant's house?" he asked. Elizabeth looked at him with both surprise and little alarm as Ned continued. "He forgot it with his other purchases today and he's already paid for it." Seeing her hesitation, Ned added persuasively, "It's not too heavy and I know his house is on your way. If it wouldn't trouble you..." he trailed off hopefully.

"Um, um," Elizabeth stammered. How could she refuse such a simple request? "Of course I don't mind," she said graciously, tucking the box of tea inside her basket along with her own purchases.

Elizabeth left the store, her feet dragging on her mission. She didn't really know why she felt so hesitant over this simplest of chores. They were on friendly terms now, weren't they? Her and Nathan. After some initial awkwardness in the early days of their acquantainence things had improved considerably. But it's not like they'd deliberately sought each other out for interaction or conversation, mostly she'd seen him in group settings, at church or the cafe, and of course when he came to collect Allie from school, but this felt different. Going to his home felt different. It felt personal. Very, very personal. Elizabeth bit her lip worriedly and continued on.

Arriving at the constable's home, Elizabeth drew up her skirts as she mounted the front steps. Maybe he wasn't home, she thought hopefully. Maybe he wasn't home and she could just leave the tea at the door. She rasied a fist and rapped lightly.

Almost immediately, the door opened and Nathan Grant stood there, surprise on his face. "Elizabeth!" he said.

"Nathan," she greeted in response, reaching immediately for the tea in her basket, wanting there to be no question of the reason for her visit. "I've brought...," she stammered, then restarted, "you left some tea at the mercantile and Ned asked me to bring it along," she informed him, holding out the box of tea towards him.

Nathan stared blankly at the tea a moment before he composed himself and reached for it. "That was kind of you, thank you," he said simply.

"You're welcome. Goodbye," Elizabeth said, relieved her mission had been so easy after all.

"Goodbye," Nathan echoed and Elizabeth turned to go, Nathan not moving as he watched her from the open doorway.

Elizabeth had taken only a few steps away when she stopped, not even having gotten to the first step. She'd read something there, on his face. It was something she'd come to do more and more often, the more she saw of him. Nathan Grant was perhaps a man of few words, but by some quirk she had the ability to be able to read his face. She knew that some silences meant he was thinking, puzzling out a problem, and some silences were a quiet reflection, an appreciation of a sound or a scene. And then there was this one, perhaps newly interpretated but she understood it nonetheless. She turned back to him.

"Nathan, is something wrong?" Elizabeth asked, putting into words what she'd seen on his face. Worry.

"Wrong?" Nathan repeated, surprised. He hadn't realized he'd shown his worry so obviously. "No, nothing, not really," he prevarcated. "Really, it's nothing."

"What's nothing?" Elizabeth persisted, as she moved back towards him.

Nathan dropped his head, shaking it sheepishly, a tad embarrassed. "It's just...Allie...," he trailed off, embarrassed at his own ineptitude. "She's locked herself in her room," he confessed. "And she won't come out," he added.

"Why? What's wrong?" Elizabeth's eyes were wide in shock.

"It's Emily's birthday party tonight, and Allie's been invited," Nathan informed her of the party Elizabeth had known about. "I think she's...anxious about going," Nathan surmised, outlining Allie's refusal to attend the party.

"Oh," Elizabeth sighed with sympathy. Allie had worked so hard to make friends, to fit in, it was a pity she was letting her anxiety get the better of her. "Do you want me to talk to her?" Elizabeth met Nathan's eyes to offer.

Nathan blinked, as a hopeful flicker came to his eye. "Would you?" he asked. "I've tried and I just can't seem to get anywhere," he acknowledged his failure.

"Of course," Elizabeth smiled, always happy to help. Maybe all Allie needed was a little girl talk. Elizabeth brushed past Nathan into the house, and set her basket down on a nearby table. She looked to Nathan for direction, her eyes following his finger as he pointed upstairs.

Elizabeth nodded in understanding, then turned and headed up the stairs. At the top, she knocked softly on the closed door.

"Allie, it's Mrs. Thornton. Can I talk to you for a minute?" she asked gently. There was a short pause and then Elizabeth heard the click of the door unlocking. She turned the knob to enter the room, spotting Allie just as she was returning to sit on the side of her bed. Allie was half-way dressed, wearing only her shift and leggings. Elizabeth moved to her and sat beside her.

"Allie, I know it can be intimidating to go to a party," Elizabeth began. "Everyone gets afraid of social situations sometimes," she told her reassuringly.

"I'm not afraid of a party," Allie scoffed at the idea.

Elizabeth blinked in surprise. "Then what?" she asked, wondering what was so the matter that Allie had locked herself in.

"That," Allie supplied the answer, and she leaned out the way and pointed over her shoulder. Elizabeth leaned too and followed the direction to a pile of fabric laying on the corner of the bed. Elizabeth had seen it when she first entered, assuming it was some kind of bedspread. Some kind of frilly, ruffled bedspread. But she got up to walk around Allie and take a good look.

Elizabeth inhaled sharply. It wasn't a bedspread, it was a dress. Immediately Elizabeth saw it was about two sizes too big and covered in every outlandish decoration immaginable, from frills, to ruffles, to bows. She met Allie's eyes, shock and mild horror in her own, as Allie nodded knowingly.

"I can't wear that!" she cried. "Uncle Nathan brought it back from Brookfield for me, but I can't wear that! Everyone will laugh at me," she pleaded her excuse. "But if I don't, I'll hurt Uncle Nathan's feelings," she outlined her dilemma, the second option, the thought of hurting his feelings, worse than the first, her small voice wracked in anguish. Allie shrugged in defeat. "So it just seemed easier to say I didn't want to go," the little girl explained.

"Allie, I have an idea," Elizabeth suddenly said, before she reached over to pat the child's knee. "I'll be right back, wait here," she said, before she hurried out of the room and down the stairs.

Nathan Grant stood up from his chair as Elizabeth came down the stairs. He raised a finger to speak with her but Elizabeth continued hurriedly past him, throwing a "I'll be right back!" over her shoulder as she flew out the front door. Nathan's eyes widened as he watched her. What in the world...? he wondered.

A few minutes later, Elizabeth arrived breathlessly at the door of the dress shop, opening the door to poke her head in. "Rosemary!" she called.

"Elizabeth, what's the matter!" Rosemary looked up in alarm.

"Can you...can you bring your sewing kit and come right away?" Elizabeth asked breathlessly.

"Of course! What is it?" Rosemary asked.

"Fashion emergency," Elizabeth supplied succinctly. "I'll tell you on the way," she said, indicating there was not a moment to lose. Understanding the direness of the situation from her friend's tone, Rosemary quickly grabbed her bag and the two women headed away.

"Nice night we're having, isn't it?" Rosemary asked awkwardly of Nathan Grant moments later as she stood at the entrance to the constable's home, trying to casually mask her surprise appearance on his doorstep.

"Rosemary!" Elizabeth admonished her delay in their mission, noting there was no time for niceties as she grabbed Rosemary's hand, practically pulling her up the stairs, Nathan eyeing them both with puzzlement. "Just a little girl talk," Elizabeth clarified to him over her shoulder, explaining the addition of her friend in trying to convince Allie to attend the party. Nathan scratched his head thoughtfully, then returned to his seat by the fire.

Inside the small bedroom, Rosemary Coulter recoiled in exaggerated horror, a hand to her throat as she visibly gasped for air, when Elizabeth held up the source of the fashion emergency to her. Rosemary began patting the air in calming moves, taking deep breaths as she did so. Finally, her hand paused, stilling the turmoil. "Don't panic," she reassured. "I've seen worse."

"Allie, can you put it on for me so I can..." Rosemary paused, "...so I can see how it looks," she added, knowing very well how it would look, knowing they all knew how it would look.

Allie obediently slipped the dress over her head to fresh gasps of dismay. "Well, first of all...," Rosemary snapped open her sewing kit and retrieved the scissors, "...we can get rid of this," she said, snipping off a large bow. She continued snipping, a bow here, a frill there, telling Elizabeth, "We can open the seams later, if we just get these off first," outlining her plan to simplify the dress.

"You know Allie," Rosemary consoled a while later as she worked over the child and the dress. "It was nice of your uncle to buy you a dress, but sometimes...sometimes men don't have much fashion sense," she informed the child, letting her in on a bit of womanly wisdom. "And you're uncle, well, he's a man," she added.

"Yes, he is," the sigh of agreement came from Elizabeth as Rosemary shot her a startled look. Realizing how that sounded, Elizabeth corrected herself, "I mean, I mean, yes, sometimes men don't have good fashion sense," she said, agreeing to Rosemary's initial assessment.

"But men have other qualities, and that's why we love them," Rosemary returned her attention to Allie, continuing to explain it to the child, a sort of welcome to the sisterhood of womanhood. "There! How's that?" Rosemary asked, turning Allie around by the shoulders and leading her to a mirror to inspect the finished product.

Allie's eyes lit up when she saw herself. The dress was immensely improved, a simple string tie at the waist to the back, one simple ruffle around her neck.

"You know, it's...it's...," Rosemary pumped her arm, her hand fisted, trying to stir up a cheer, "...it's...not bad," she finally came up with. Allie wasn't Cinderella and she wasn't a Fairy Godmother, so this was the best she could do in the time she'd had. But really the dress wasn't bad, and Allie seemed well-pleased. All she'd wanted was not to stand out amongst her friends and the much simpler dress would accomplish that.

"Ready to go?" Elizabeth asked, as Allie turned to smile agreement and Elizabeth met Rosemary's eyes with a smile of her own thanks.

As Allie descended the stairs, the two women following her, Nathan rose from his chair, surprised to see his niece dressed for the party and apparently willing to go. He looked to Elizabeth with a question in his eyes.

Elizabeth read the question, his face and expressions so easy for her now, and gave a slight nod in response.

"Well, let's go then," Nathan smiled to his niece, walking her to the front door. Peering down at her as they walked out together he commented, "You know, that dress looks even better on you than it did at the store."

"Thank you, Uncle Nathan," Allie accepted the compliment with a happy smile, then turned with a hand on the doorknob to meet Elizabeth's eyes. The child shot her an exaggerated wink, and Elizabeth smiled to return a wink of equal measure, before she looked up and caught the curious eyes of Nathan Grant.

Deliberately feigning a blank look, Elizabeth raised her chin and called out, "Have a good time!" as the two finally turned and left.

"Oh...she's a nice kid," Rosemary opined, standing next to Elizabeth.

"She sure is," Elizabeth agreed, remembering how sweetly Allie had not wanted to hurt her uncle's feelings about the dress.

Suddenly, she felt Rosemary nudging her in the arm. "And he's not bad either," she said with a slight snicker.

"Rosemary," Elizabeth drew her name out warningly.

"What?" Rosemary answered innocently, before supplying the quintessential Rosemaryism to sum up her thoughts. Her thoughts about the subtle signals she'd just now seen between Elizabeth and Nathan, small and subtle, but there, definitely there.

"I've got eyes, Elizabeth Thornton. Don't tell me not to use them!"


	9. Chapter 9

Once again, thanks to anyone following along...I'm a little worried though, my views have dropped off. Are people not liking where I'm going with the story? Am I incorporating too many storylines? (I'm trying to do like the show with multiple storylines at the same time). Please let me know if you're following along, it really helps to encourage me to keep going. The next 2 scenes are not Elizabeth-Nathan, but I have the next 5 scenes in my mind already and 3 of those are Elizabeth-Nathan, it's just finding the time to write them down. Anyway, hope you enjoy these!

* * *

Lee Coulter assisted his wife out of their automobile in front of their row house, carefully helping her out as she cradled something swaddled in blankets in her arms. The pair were so focussed on the safe transport of the precious cargo that they didn't see their neighbour Elizabeth Thornton step out onto her porch, her eyes wide with surprise.

Dispensing with niceties and protocol, Elizabeth immediately followed the pair as they entered their home.

"Rosemary...Lee...what? what?" Elizabeth stammered lost for words, her mouth agape, as she watched Rosemary carefully sit on the settee and fold away a layer of blanket from the face of the baby in her arms.

"Elizabeth," Rosemary said softy, her eyes not leaving the child. "I'd like you to meet Christopher Lee," she said, finally looking up to Elizabeth with a smile.

"What?" Elizabeth was still puzzled, her eyes darting from the child, then to the matching smiles of Rosemary and Lee wore, working in her mind what the sight of her friends with a baby meant. "You mean...?"

Rosemary nodded. "This is Christopher Lee," she repeated. "Hopefully soon to be Christopher Lee Coulter," she added, her eyes positively bursting with joy.

"You're adopting!" the light bulb finally lit in Elizabeth's mind. "Oh, how wonderful!" she enthused, clasping her hands together near her heart, finally understanding all those afternoon drives the pair had taken of late. To Brookfield, to the orphanage in Brookfield.

"Well, it's not final, all that paperwork you know," Rosemary waved her hand dismissively, "but hopefully soon. Oh Elizabeth," Rosemary, looked up, tears glistening in her eyes. "Isn't he beautiful? Don't you think he looks just like Lee?"

Elizabeth sat on the settee and reached to peer at the child in Rosemary's arms. "Beautiful, yes," she said. "As for looking like Lee, I don't know," she deadpanned playfully, refraining from judgement, "I'd have to see him in plaid pants first."

It was then that the trio burst into laughter, for Rosemary and Lee it was a joyous release of all the worry and stress and heartache of the past long while, of wanting a child and fearing they'd never have one. Elizabeth smiled at her two friends, so happy for them, and for the child in Rosemary's arms. Whatever unhappy tragedy had befallen him already in his short life, she knew that Rosemary and Lee would spend their lives making it up to him, and to being the best parents a child could ever hope for.

* * *

Nathan Grant strode into the Queen of Hearts saloon to make his rounds, eyeing the tables of card players distastefully, his nostrils wrinkling at the heavy smell of beer. He didn't know why he found this particular chore so distasteful, well maybe he did, but he tried not to dwell on that, pushing the thoughts and memories down deep, like he always did.

"Well, constable, what can I get you today?"the question came from Lucas Bouchard, a bit of a challenge tinging his words.

"Lucas, you know very well I can't drink on duty," Nathan's eyes slanted distrustfully on the proprietor. "I'm just here doing my rounds as usual," Nathan explained.

"And as you see, everything is quiet, peaceful," Lucas said, gesturing around the room with his hand.

"So it is," Nathan agreed. "But if you don't mind I'll just watch awhile, over here," Nathan said, ambling to the end of the bar and leaning on it.

"As you wish," Lucas replied with a sigh and a slight tip of his head, not knowing why he distrusted the lawman, well _lawmen_ he corrected mentally, then thinking maybe he did know, pushing the thoughts and memories down deep, like he always did.

Heading back behind the bar, Lucas suddenly let out a yelp as his feet hit an obstacle and he tumbled to the floor, sprawled inelegantly on his backside.

"Oh Lucas, I'm so sorry!" the apology came from Fiona Miller, down on her hands and knees and backing out from under his counter. Lucas blinked, realizing he had tripped over her prone form.

"Fiona. Miss Miller," he decided the more formal address more appropriate in the circumstance. "Whatever are you doing under there?"

"Installing your telephone. You wanted one at the counter too, didn't you? To take reservations?" she reminded him.

"Yes I did," Lucas conceded. "But I didn't think you'd be here at this time of day."

"Well, I worked the switchboard today and this was the only time I could come," she explained.

Lucas sighed and rose, tugging on his vest as he did so. He was a proud man, proud of his polish and refinement and sprawled on his backside on his barroom floor certainly did not enhance that appearance. He shot a quick glance at Constable Grant still leaning at the end of the bar and watched him stifle a smirk of amusement at his predicament.

"Here, let me help you up," he offered a gallant hand to the Miss Miller, only to have her reject his offer.

"I'm not done yet," she said, disappearing once again under his counter. Lucas let out a sigh, suddenly thinking this was not his day.

"And I say you cheated!" the sudden loud accusation came from one of the poker tables, a chair tipped loudly backwards as two men suddenly rose, angrily facing each other, their chests rising and falling in angry breaths.

Immediately both Lucas and Nathan strode to the pair, Lucas arriving just a tad sooner. "What's going on here?" he asked.

"This feller's trying to cheat me!" one man accused.

"I did not, you just can't play cards!" the other retorted back.

"Well why don't you both take half the money and get out of here," Lucas said with authority, not liking the disruption in his saloon. He ran a respectable place, and this kind of behaviour was not tolerated.

"Hmpff," both men grumbled, eyeing the proprietor and then the red surge clad Mountie another foot or so away, the Mountie's arms crossed in front of him, his feet braced apart. It was hard to make a move or continue arguing with both the proprietor and the Mountie staring them down at the ready.

"Well, alright," one of the men said, scooping up his half of the winnings. "But I ain't never coming here no more," he disparaged his opinion of the saloon.

"I think that's a good idea," Lucas agreed wholeheartedly, not wanting their kind in his place anyway.

As the two gamblers ambled out, Lucas shot Nathan a begrudging look. "Thanks," he said.

"For what?" Nathan replied, he hadn't done anything. Lucas had handled the situation and quite capably he thought as well.

"For having my back," Lucas acknowledged begrudgingly, knowing the Mountie's presence had gone a ways in defusing the situation.

A smile tugged at the corner of Nathan's mouth. "You're welcome."

Just then both men's eyes turned to the third man who now rose from the same gaming table, his hat in hand and his eyes downcast. Lucas's eyes swept him and then glanced down to the table in front him, now bare.

"David, wait," Lucas said on a sigh, as the man, a worker from the mill, made to shuffle away.

Lucas strode to the counter, to the money till, and withdrew twenty dollars, briefly meeting Fiona's eyes. She had risen from under the counter at the commotion and was now watching the scene with interest.

Lucas headed back to David, reached for a hand and deposited the money in his palm. At the man's startled glance, Lucas explained, "No man loses the shirt off his back in my place."

"But...but...," the man stammered, uncomprehending.

"And I hope you understand I mean this kindly," Lucas continued, "but you're never to step foot in here again."

David nodded, understanding now. He'd been a fool, a fool to gamble with his week's wages, losing it all, not knowing how he'd ever explain it to his wife, how they'd make it until his next pay. He was a fool for taking such a risk, one he could never take again, one that Lucas would see he would never take again.

As the man made to leave, Lucas met Nathan's eyes and saw a question there. "Just good business, Constable," he said by way of explanation of his generosity.

"Really?" Nathan replied with some doubt. It was good business to refund a gambler's losses?

"Really," Lucas said, maybe more to convince himself than the Mountie. All he knew was he wanted no part of causing anyone hardship, that the saloon's only purpose was as a meeting place for the good people of Hope Valley, and that was the sum of his ambition. He turned suddenly and headed back to the bar, leaving the constable watching him go.

Nathan's eyes squinted on Lucas Bouchard's retreating figure, trying to figure him out. He was a gambler, wasn't he? And Nathan had a mistrust of gamblers so he didn't know why this one should be any different.

Nathan sighed. All he knew, all he could figure out, was that Lucas Bouchard was making it awfully hard not to like him.


	10. Chapter 10

Nathan Grant rode up to Elizabeth Thornton's row house that afternoon with some trepidation. But if he felt a bit nervous at the prospect he also felt it was no less than he was obliged to do. He felt he owed her some thanks, for all she'd done for Allie, and indirectly him. And it was time he acknowledged his thanks with words.

"Good afternoon, Elizabeth," he began, as he came abreast of her small home. Elizabeth was seated on the top step of her front stoop, shelling a bowl of peas, dropping the peas into her lap and the shells into the bowl beside her. Behind her, her son Little Jack sat upright playing with a pile of blocks and babbling to himself.

"Good afternoon, Nathan," Elizabeth looked up but continued with her task. It was hot in the house and she'd come out to the porch where it was a little cooler.

Nathan watched her a minute, forming his words, thinking how lovely she looked there, in her tidy apron, her hair loose about her shoulders, small tendrils picked up and floated around by the gentle breeze, her cheeks flushed from the fresh air. The scene was homey and quaint and something panged longingly in Nathan's heart at thesight.

Elizabeth bit her lip, suppressing a smile. She'd seen immediately that he'd come to tell her something. That something was on his mind. She'd read it on his face, and she saw now he was struggling for the words.

"Do you want something, Nathan?" she asked, thinking the prompt might help him.

"Yes, um, I just wanted to thank you," Nathan said.

"Thank me?" Elizabeth queried.

"You know, for helping Allie. For helping her...the other night," he trailed off, evasively.

"The other night?"

"Yeah," Nathan acknowledged, reaching into a small bag hooked around his saddlehorn and drawing out small swatches of fabric, holding them up to show her. "For helping Allie...with her dress," he finally said, having pieced together what had really happened that night once he'd found the remnants of the discarded frills and bows.

"Ohhh," Elizabeth drew out the word, understanding that he now understood their impromptu makeover of the dress he'd bought his niece. "I guess we shouldn't have left the evidence behind," she said lightly, apologetically.

"No, I'm glad of it," Nathan said, eyeing her directly. "Glad to know your kindness, and Mrs. Coulter's," he explained. "Glad to have the chance to thank you properly," he added. At Elizabeth's slight nod, Nathan continued conversationally, "I hear Mrs. Coulter and her husband have a new addition to their household."

Elizabeth smiled. "That they do," she confirmed.

Nathan nodded. "They seem like good people," he observed.

"Yes, they are," Elizabeth replied with another smile.

"Please pass along my congra-" Nathan suddenly stopped and flew off his horse in one quick leap followed by several fast long strides, startling Elizabeth as he bolted to the side of the porch.

"There, there, little man," Nathan cooed as he caught the errant child just as he was about to topple off the edge of the porch.

"Jack!" Elizabeth exclaimed, rushing to the side of the porch, the peas in her lap forgotten in her haste and flying all around as she raced to her child, taking him from Nathan's arms and holding him tight. She'd placed him in the centre of the porch to play, not realizing his crawling skills were enough to take him to the porch's edge. It was a good two feet to the ground, and Elizabeth let out her breath in relief, sighing in realization of the close escape from such a fall.

"Nathan, thank you," Elizabeth blinked up at him, the day's thank you's suddenly reversed.

Nathan nodded, then eyed the porch around them. "You know, you ought to have a railing put on here, just to be safe," he added.

"Yeah, I'll get right on that," Elizabeth answered dryly, like she didn't have enough to do teaching full time, volunteering at the library, being a single mother, not to mention all the regular repairs on her home, nevermind improvements to it.

"Well, I guess I'd better be going," Nathan observed, touching his hat, then moving to his horse to mount up. He turned and rode away, while Elizabeth watched and held her son tight in her arms, her cheek pressed to the child's as she rocked them both side to side.

It was a few days later that Elizabeth walked wearily home from school, down the long row of rowhouses, all identically built and outfitted. Identical that is, until she came to her own, as she stopped to gape in surprise at the sight before her. For her home now stood apart, different from the others. Encircling her porch, painted a colour to match, Elizabeth saw it studied it. What made her house different.

A fresh new railing.


	11. Chapter 11

"Oh Elizabeth, what about these?" Rosemary Coulter held up a tiny pair of blue socks. "Aren't they just the cutest?" she asked, as the two women stood in the mercantile, picking out baby clothes and supplies. Lee was home with little Christopher and it had given Rosemary a chance to get out and make some purchases.

"They're very cute," Elizabeth smiled and nodded to her friend. amused by her friend's over the top enthusiasm. Well, Rosemary Coulter was almost always over the top enthusiastic so it was little wonder she would be the same when it involved her child.

"Oh, I think I'll get them," she said, dropping the socks into the basket hung over her arm. "And some of these..." she trailed off, not quite so enthusiastically as she piled some fresh cloth diapers into her basket. "Wouldn't it be wonderful if someone invented diapers you didn't have to wash?" she asked wistfully. "You know, just throw them away when they're used?"

Elizabeth's browed wrinkled at the idea. "You mean...disposable...disposable diapers?" She shook her head at the outlandish idea. "Rosemary, I know you don't like to wash diapers, no one does, but you're dreaming with that idea."

Rosemary sighed. "I know."

"Fiona, I'm just asking for an estimate, when the job might be done," it was Lucas Bouchard across the store, leaning casually in front of Fiona Miller as she worked the switchboard located in the small mercantile, his arm propped atop the console.

"I told you, Lucas, I got the telephone installed at your front desk, that was the priority, the rest of the installations will take some time. I have another job you know," she reminded him, just as she asnwered a call, her pleasant "please wait a moment and I'll connect you" interrupting their conversation.

Lucas let out a sigh. It was hard to be patient, it was not his strong suit and he really wished Fiona would come back to the saloon and finish up the work there. Why, he hadn't seen her in days, not wondering long on why that little fact also contributed to his impatience.

"Let me know if you have any issues with the front desk telephone and I'll come right away, but as for the rest..." Fiona turned her palm up apologetically and shrugged, her meaning clear. She would get to it when she could get to it.

"Fine," Lucas heaved on a sigh and raised a brow in annoyance. Fiona glared back at him, raising a brow of her own, their eyes stubbornly locked, the two at an impasse before Lucas turned to go.

Having heard the conversation between the two, Rosemary Coulter scurried to the front door, peering out as she watched Lucas Bouchard head off in the direction of the barbershop. She turned back to Elizabeth, something conspiratorial in her tone.

"Did you hear that?" she whispered.

"Hear what?" Elizabeth asked.

"Lucas and Fiona," she clarified.

"Yes, I heard their conversation. What about it?" Elizabeth asked, perhaps already knowing what answer Hope Valley's resident matchmaker was going to give.

"There's something there, between those two," she observed, still leaning over to whisper her obversations to Elizabeth.

"Really, Rosemary!" Elizabeth shushed her with a touch of exasperation. Sometimes a conversation was just a conversation, no need to read so much into it.

But Rosemary was shaking her head. "No, no, no, no, no," she rapidfired. "I definitely picked up on something there," Rosemary declared on a hush, knowing she had a peculiar gift that way. In sensing these things. Why, she knew of another couple that gave her the same sort of vibes, only she refrained from mentioning it, knowing how sensitive Elizabeth seemed to be about it. But this pair. This pair was fair game. Suddenly Rosemary blinked. "Wait! I have an idea," she said snapping her fingers. "Come with me," she ordered as she quickly went to the counter to pay for her purchases and then hurried out of the store, Elizabeth sighing as she followed behind, somehow knowing she wasn't going to like it. Whatever Rosemary's idea was, she wasn't going to like it.

Elizabeth struggled to keep up with Rosemary as she flew across the street, dodging traffic and headed to the saloon. Just inside the doors she stopped and looked around, the room almost empty at this time of day, as Elizabeth caught up to her. "What are you doing?" Elizabeth asked, totally confounded.

Her perusal of the room complete, Rosemary's eyes lit up when she spotted the telephone sitting on the counter. "Act as my lookout," she instructed to Elizabeth.

"What?!" Elizabeth hissed back to her. Lookout for what?

But it was too late, Rosemary had already sidled away, a forced casualness as she approached the bar, then ducked behind it. She made a swift glance around the room, just to make sure no one was watching before her eyes dropped to the telephone on the counter and the long cord trailing away from it. Suddenly Rosemary reached out, grasped the cord and give it a swift hard yank, detaching it from its moorings.

Elizabeth's eyes were wide in shock as she watched Rosemary head back towards her. "Rosemary, what have you done?" she asked as she drew near.

"Shh," Rosemary shushed her. She was only giving love a little push, a little help, was there anything wrong in that? Now Fiona'd have to come back to the saloon, to fix the telephone.

"Rosemary, that's...that's...criminal!" Elizabeth hissed at her at the undeniable destruction of property she's just witnessed.

"Not if we don't get caught," Rosemary deadpanned, turning Elizabeth around and pushing her by the shoulders out of the saloon.

* * *

Elizabeth Thornton strolled around the schoolyard at recess a few days later, watching the children as they played. A bit of jumprope here, a game of catch there. And then there was Allie. Allie regaling a group of children with stories, usually funny ones, it was a gift she had. As Elizabeth strolled casually by, her ears caught some of Allie's words.

"Drunker than a skunk, and the snoring! Woowee!" Allie batted the air to emphasize her point.

"Allie!" Elizabeth exclaimed in shock. Whatever this story was about it was not one that was appropriate to be telling. "Children, please go play elsewhere, I want to talk to Allie for a moment," she instructed as the other children got up and left.

"Allie, I don't know what that story was about, but it's not acceptable to be telling..." Elizabeth started.

"I was just telling them what happened at the jail," Allie interrupted matter of factly.

"What happened at the jail? When?" Elizabeth asked, wondering just when Allie was at the jail to see a prisoner, presumably "drunker than a skunk".

"Last night," Allie replied.

"When last night?" Elizabeth pressed.

Allie shrugged. "All night. I was at the jail all night."

"All night? You were at the jail all night?" Elizabeth struggled to understand.

"Uncle Nathan was there too," Allie explained, trying to understand her teacher's look of horror. "Only he had to sleep in the chair. Least I got the other bed," she explained, referring to the fact the jail had two cots, one in each cell, the other one presumably filled by an inebriated occupant.

"Allie, that's enough," Elizabeth couldn't hear any more. "Go on inside now, recess is almost over."

It was all Elizabeth could do to contain her fury throughout the afternoon's lessons, even letting the class out 10 minutes early so she could meet Nathan at his office before he left to collect Allie from school.

Elizabeth flung open the door to the Mountie office, all propriety gone, all politeness and manners discarded in the face of her fury.

"Elizabeth!" Nathan stood at the sight of her.

Elizabeth approached his desk, her fists balled in anger. "Am I to understand, _Constable Grant,_" Elizabeth fairly spat his name at him, "that Allie spent the night last night in the _jail?_"

Nathan blinked in the face of her anger. "Yes, but..." he started to explain.

"No buts!" Elizabeth threw the words back at him, swiping a finger at him, erasing his attempt to explain. "You don't get to explain this away!" she fairly shouted. "This was totally, completely, irrevocably unacceptable!"

"I totally agree," Nathan shot back at her. What was he supposed to do anyway?

His sudden agreement with her caught Elizabeth off guard and she paused her anger, but only for a moment.

"Nathan, this cannot happen. The jail is no place for a child," Elizabeth said emphatically.

"I know," Nathan conceded again. "I totally agree."

"Then why?" Elizabeth ventured, finally inviting an explanation.

Nathan shook his head and sighed. "Regulations require that if there's a prisoner I have to be here, I have to stay," he explained. "The childcare arrangements I made for Allie fell through and I had no alternative. It was bring her here or leave her home alone, and this was the lesser of the two evils," he explained.

Elizabeth sighed. She knew how difficult childcare arrangements could be when you were the lone parent. Even with all of her friends to help, there had still been days early on when she didn't even know where her child was or who was minding him, such was the chaos at the time. But since she'd hired Laura as her nanny things had smoothed down considerably. Elizabeth looked up at Nathan.

"What did you do in the other places you lived?" she wondered.

"Sometimes I was able to hire a nanny," Nathan explained. "Sometimes an obliging neighbour," he added. "But here, I guess it's just a smaller community and I haven't been able to find a reliable sitter, especially a night time one," he explained his dilemma.

Suddenly Elizabeth sighed, the fury and anger that had simmered all afternoon gone out of her. "Alright, send her to me," she said.

"Pardon?" Nathan wasn't sure he'd heard correctly.

"I said send her to me," Elizabeth repeated. "I'm home every night, there's an extra bed in Little Jack's room, and I can take her to school with me in the morning," she outlined the practicalities. "On the nights you can't leave the jail, send Allie to me."

"Elizabeth, I can't impose like that. You've done so much for me already..." he shook his head negatively.

"It's not imposing, and I'm not doing it for you!" Elizabeth ground out, wanting it understood. "I'm doing it for Allie and for _me,_ Nathan Grant, because if I have to even _think _of child sleeping in there..," she flung her arm straight out, pointing at the now empty jail cells, "I'm going to have nightmares!" she intoned loudly. "So," Elizabeth humphffed, "are we agreed?" she raised her chin to eye him directly, her manner brooking no refusal.

Something in Elizabeth's tone and manner gave Nathan the sudden urge to reply Yes Ma'am but he didn't think that would go over well at the moment, so he merely nodded in the affirmation and replied, "Yes."

"Good," Elizabeth said, pleased the matter was settled.

"Good," Nathan echoed, out-last-wording her.

"Fine," Elizabeth said, not to be outdone.

"Fine," Nathan repeated.

Elizabeth sighed. This was ridiculous. What were they? Two children trying to get the last word? She turned on her heel and strode to the door, uttering "Goodday, Constable," then immediately closing the door before he had a chance to reply, smirking to herself over getting the last word after all. 


	12. Chapter 12

Thank you so much for the lovely comments on my recent chapters. It is so encouraging and helps me keep going. The following is just a small vignette I had in my head...hope you enjoy!

* * *

Now where had that child got to? Elizabeth Thornton stood on the porch of her small home a few weeks later and surveyed the area around her. She'd taken Allie home with her after school that night since Nathan had had to stay at the jail with a couple of prisoners. It was the first night Elizabeth had taken Allie with her since her childcare agreement with Nathan that she would mind Allie when he had duties at the jail. But so far this wasn't going so well. She'd told Allie she could go out to play while she fixed dinner but now the child was nowhere to be seen.

How was it possible? Elizabeth wondered. All around her stretched flat plain, it's not as if there _was _anywhere to disappear to, she should have been easily visible to the eye. "Allie!" she tried calling to no avail, rubbing her hands up and down, smoothing her apron as she looked around.

Suddenly Elizabeth spotted a red-jacketed figure on horseback ambling down the length of rowhouses towards her. Uh oh, she mentally said to herself.

"Constable," Elizabeth greeted as Nathan drew his horse up in front of her house. "I'm surprised to see you here," she said.

Nathan nodded. "The prisoners were picked up and taken to Cape Fullerton just a little while ago, so I don't have to stay at the jail tonight. I can take Allie home with me," he explained.

"Oh," Elizabeth replied, blinking at him and giving him a deliberately blank look.

"Is Allie...around?" Nathan asked, trying to figure out the strange expression on Elizabeth's face.

"Oh...she's...around," Elizabeth prevarcated. Allie was certainly around...around somewhere, she just wasn't sure where at the moment.

Nathan's eyes squinted on Elizabeth. "You've lost her, haven't you?" he asked, a sudden smirk tugging on his mouth.

"What? No," Elizabeth quickly shook her head, like she could do something so irresponsible like lose a child.

The smirk on Nathan's face grew to an amused smile. Yup, she'd lost her. And it somehow pleased him to know that his wayward niece had managed to befuddle even the calm and capable Mrs. Thornton. Goodness knew Allie was a handful for him, so to know it wasn't just him she'd managed to out-manoeuver this time pleased him greatly.

"Have you looked in the trees?" Nathan helpfully supplied.

"The trees?" Elizabeth asked, blinking at him uncomprehendingly.

"Allie likes to climb trees," he reminded her as Elizabeth's eyes lifted to the patch of trees in the distance.

"Oh," she said, in a way that indicated that possible location hadn't occurred to her.

"Nevermind, I'll go look," Nathan shook his head, still smirking as he rode off towards the cluster of trees.

"Allie!" Nathan called up after he'd reached the base of a group of nearby trees.

"Up here, Uncle Nathan!" the child called back, the "up" part of her disclosure not really necessary.

"Allie, come on down!" Nathan called the instruction up, way, way, up to where the child sat perched on a branch.

"Okay!" Allie called back from her perch about thirty feet above ground. Nathan watched her slowly descend, a bit admiringly if he had to admit it. Long ago, Allie's tree climbing adventures had rattled his nerves but he'd come to realize she was a very good climber, nimble, agile and able to locate and use even the tiniest protrusions on the tree's bark as grips for fingers and feet.

Near the ground Allie swung on a low tree branch and jumped the final few feet to the grass. "Hey Uncle Nathan, did you know you can watch the train from up there?" she asked him, explaining her latest adventure.

"No, I didn't know that," Nathan replied. "But I'll certainly remember that if I ever need to watch it," he added with a smile as the two turned to head back to the row house.

Elizabeth still stood on her porch, Little Jack with her this time, perched on a hip, as she waited for the two to return. She watched them amble towards her, Nathan moving slowly on his horse as Allie walked at his side.

"Elizabeth, thank you...once again," Nathan said as the pair drew up to the house, his thanks preliminary to their departure as Elizabeth nodded her head.

Suddenly realizing the jist of things, looking between the two adults, Allied cried, "Wait! Aren't we staying for supper?" she looked at her uncle to ask. She could already smell the savoury scents wafting out from the open doorway.

"Allie," Nathan was quick to admonish the child. It wasn't polite. It wasn't polite to invite yourself to dinner.

"No, no, please, please stay," Elizabeth was quick to smooth over the child's blunder with the invitation. "I've made plenty and I...I'd like it if you could stay," she repeated. "It's just stew...and biscuits...and pie," she amended, reciting the rather inviting menu.

"Please, Uncle Nathan!" Allie pleaded, her face upturned as she tugged on her uncle's leg as he sat on his horse. She knew. She knew the offering here was better than the can of beans she was likely to get at home. It wasn't like Uncle Nathan was known for his cooking.

Nathan sighed, unsure if the invitation was genuine or more likely coerced by his niece. Because Elizabeth was too nice, too thoughtful and kind to do otherwise.

"Alright, thank you," he finally agreed, swinging himself off his horse and tying it to the railing out front. A brief smile came to his mouth. The railing. It looked pretty good, even if he admitted it himself. He'd thought so too, those weeks ago when he'd come to build it on impulse one afternoon when he'd had a bit of free time.

As the group trudged into the house, Elizabeth threw a "it'll be ready in just a few minutes" over her shoulder as she looked around for a spot to put Little Jack down so she could finish making dinner.

"Here, I can take him," Nathan said, stepping forward to take the child from her arms as he saw her dilemma.

"Are you sure?" Elizabeth asked uncertainly, but the child was already being withdrawn from her arms.

"'Course I am," Nathan said, lifting Little Jack comfortably in his arms, then turning to one of the chairs at the table. He pulled it out and sat down, placing the child facing forward on a knee, one arm casually slung around him to hold him in place as he began to jostle him a bit, to the delighted giggles and claps of a happy child.

"Uncle Nathan, look what I made in school today," it was Allie now, pulling out some of her schoolwork and laying it on the table in front of her uncle as he peered down with appropriate oohs and ahhs all the while continuing to jostle Little Jack on his knee.

Elizabeth watched the scene a moment, her hands clasped in front of her, something about the sweet scene making her smile, not outwardly, her smile was somewhere else.

In her heart maybe.


	13. Chapter 13

This was a tough chapter to write. Maybe it's appropriate it's chapter 13, unlucky 13. Anyway, it's part of my story, warts and all, it was what was in my head and I couldn't _not _write it.

Lee Coulter drove his automobile to the front of his row house and cut the engine. He sat inside the vehicle, not moving, his jaw working with some unexpressed emotion, his hands fisted around the steering wheel as he stared ahead.

It had been the trip today, the trip to Brookfield. The way he'd been unexpectedly called away to Brookfield. It was the source of his pain and anguish now.

Lee finally turned his head to look up at his closed front door. And now he had to face her. To tell her. It seemed like the most difficult, impossible moment of his life. Lee took a deep steadying breath and opened the car door. He got out and slowly ascended the stairs on his small front porch. He paused, his hand on the doorknob, then forced himself to turn the knob and go inside.

At the sight of her husband's entrance to their home, Rosemary Coulter, always flurry of activity, immediately reached for the small baby shirt nearby. "Oh Lee," she said by way of greeting. "Look at this!" she exlaimed, holding up the small shirt to him, a playful grin on her face.

Lee responded with a forced half smile, trying to ease into it, ease into his painful news. "Rosemary...," he began.

"And look at these little shoes!" Rosemary, oblivious, continued on, holding up the matching booties.

"Rosemary...," Lee repeated again, patiently.

"What?" Rosemary asked, finally looking at him directly, seeing something in his eyes. "What? What is it?" she asked, a worry creeping over her at her husband's serious expression.

"Rosemary, I have something to tell you," Lee said. "Maybe...maybe you should sit down."

Rosemary eyes widened at the worrying instruction. "No, Lee Coulter! You tell me now!" she demanded.

"I was in...Brookfield today," Lee began.

"Brookfield? Why?" Rosemary asked.

"At the orphanage," Lee expanded.

"Why? Why were you at the orphanage?"

"I was called there," Lee explained. "Its about Christopher."

Rosemary tilted her head at her husband and her eyes narrowed as she started to read his eyes and expression. She began to shake her head, side to side as realization dawned, repeating, "No, no, no..."

Lee gave a slight nod, knowing how painful his small affirmation would be. "Rosemary, he has relatives. They didn't know, Rosemary...they didn't know about the accident," Lee informed her, referring to the accident that had taken Christopher's parents from him. "They didn't know about the accident, and they want him, they want Christopher."

"No!" Rosemary cried, both with anguish and denial. "No!"

"I've met them, Rosemary," he said. "They're good people."

Rosemary wimpered. "We're good people!"

"I know," Lee responded. He tried to make her understand, understand the impossibility of it all. "Rosemary, we've only had him three weeks."

"Don't you tell me it's not possible to love a child in three weeks, Lee Coulter! Don't you tell me that!" Rosemary flung at him fiercely, tears and anger and pain punctuating her words.

"I know, I know," Lee rushed to his wife, grasping her by the arms and pressing her forehead to hers. "I do, too," he said. "I love him too," he breathed the words over Rosemary's quiet sobs, holding onto his wife as their world came crashing down around them.

Lee Coulter sat on his front stoop a few days later in utter defeat. He hadn't known anthing could be so painful. They'd gone to Brookfield, together, him and Rosemary and little Christopher. Rosemary had make sure to bring all his favouritie toys, his new clothes, his favourite blankets, even his diapers. She'd told his new family all his likes, which way he liked to be held, what books he seemed to like hearing the best, what times he ate. All of it, she left nothing out as she tried her best to do what was best for Christopher, what would make the transition easiest for him. But when it was over, it was like every last bit of life had gone out of her, leaving just a walking shell.

They'd rode back to Hope Valley in silence. And at the door of their home, Rosemary said the only words she'd said since their goodbyes to Christopher. "I'm tired. I'm going to go lie down."

So Lee had come to sit out on the front stoop of his house and it was where Elizabeth found him a short while later.

"Lee?" she spoke gently, sitting beside him, knowing how hard this day was for him, for both Rosemary and him.

Lee rubbed his jaw and nodded, acknowledging Elizabeth's concern, her sympathy. "I'm okay," he told her, as he blinked rapidly and swallowed hard.

Elizabeth didn't know if she'd ever seen a man cry before, but maybe she was seeing one now.

"I'll be alright," Lee said, in a voice that clearly said he was not alright. "But Rosemary...," he trailed off painfully. "She's...she's hurting so bad and I...I don't know how to help her," his anguish was palpable. Finally he turned to her, and Elizabeth saw the full brunt of his pain in his eyes. His pain and his tears. "Please," he begged. "Please go to her."

Elizabeth touched his arm and nodded, then rose wearily to her feet, the impossible task of leaving one grieving friend to go to another. She wrapped her shawl tighter around herself and drew a hand to raise her skirt as she headed up the stairs beside Lee, her footsteps heavy and slow with heartache.

She found Rosemary on her bed, sprawled on her stomach, her face sideways to the mattress with a hand fisted before her mouth as she sobbed out her pain. Elizabeth knew there were no words, no words to console what was unconsolable. So she did the only thing her heart told her to do. She carefully drew herself across the bed, laying next to Rosemary, an arm around her back and her forehead pressed close to hers.

And wept with her.


	14. Chapter 14

Thank you for the recent comments, they are so appreciated. No Elizabeth-Nathan in this chapter, but hopefully some other stuff to enjoy. :)

x

It was two weeks later that Elizabeth and Rosemary Coulter sat having tea on the settee in Elizabeth's row house. Elizabeth was trying to spend time with her friend, to offer extra attention in these difficult weeks since the adoption of little Christopher had gone so wrong. And Rosemary, well she was just trying to keep busy, staying busy being the only real remedy to keep her mind off things.

"Would you like to try a cookie?" Elizabeth offered the plate to Rosemary, an assortment of delicacies to choose from.

"Oh Elizabeth, these look wonderful! Did you make them yourself?" Rosemary asked as she selected an appealing morsel.

Elizabeth nodded. "Well, Allie helped me," she said with a smile. It had been fun teaching the little girl to bake on those nights when she minded her. She got the distinct impression that baking was not something she shared with her uncle.

"Oh, that's so nice," Rosemary said, that Elizabeth was helping the little motherless girl that way, sharing the domestic chore with her. "Maybe next time...maybe next time Lee and I will adopt a little girl," she said matter of factly.

"Next time?" Elizabeth shot her friend a look. Next time? Rosemary was already thinking of next time? After the painful ordeal she'd just been through, it wouldn't have surprised Elizabeth if Rosemary decided not to adopt again, not to risk the hurt and pain again.

But Rosemary was nodding. "I think we'll adopt again," she said. "I know we will," she corrected. "Not...right away," Rosemary clarified, knowing they needed time to heal, her and Lee both. But at Elizabeth's questioning look, questioning why she would contemplate it, Rosemary tried to explain. tried to explain why she'd do it. Why she'd put her heart out there again. "You should have seen all the little kids there at the orphanage, Elizabeth. They've already lost so much in their young lives. I can't..." Rosemary hesitated. "I can't elevate my pain over theirs," she said simply.

Elizabeth reached over to squeeze her friend's hand, her heart swelling with something more than pride. Some might have called Rosemary Coulter loud and overblown, meddlesome, even a busybody. But Elizabeth knew. She knew that if Rosemary was loud and overblown on the outside it was only because it perfectly matched her overblown heart on the inside. And she was proud of her, proud to be her friend and proud that Rosemary had chosen to be hers.

x

Henry Gowen stepped into the mayor's office, startled at the sight of Bill Avery leafing through the town's ledgers.

"Bill," Henry said in acknowledgement, as he removed his hat and hung it on a nearby peg.

"Henry," Bill said, not looking up from his task.

"I hope everything there meets with your approval," Henry said and sighed.

"Come on, Henry," Bill said. "You really didn't expect me not to keep an eyes on things, did you?" he asked. While the town had appointed Henry acting mayor, mostly out of desperation, he wasn't such a fool as to give him free reign, and that Henry's past indicated he be watched. Bill knew Henry _could _do the job of mayor, he just wondered what _else _he might do.

Bill finished perusing the last few entries in the ledger, then closed the book in front of him.

"Well?" Henry prompted him for his opinion.

"It all looks good," Bill conceded reluctantly. All the bills paid, all the accounts flush with funds. There was even extra money to fund new books for the library, and to regrade the town's roads. Already work was underway fixing the town's wooden sidewalks, even adding new ones. Bill had to concede it. Henry was a good manager. The town was flourishing under his care.

"Alright, Henry, till next time," Bill got up to leave, implying he'd be back. He'd be back to keep an eye on Henry's activities.

Henry watched Bill Avery leave and heaved another sigh, knowing he'd now have to be extra careful. With Bill Avery watching his every move, he'd have to be extra extra careful.

x

Lucas Bouchard watched Fiona Miller across the barroom floor. After many postponements, she'd finally come back to work on installing telephones in his guestrooms but he didn't know if he liked this new development any better. She was up on a ladder, running cable to the second floor and something about her precarious stance worried him. His eyes grew wide as she suddenly seemed to lose her balance and her arms began to comically flail in the air as she fought to regain herself.

Lucas took several long strides towards her, managing to catch her just as she lost the balance battle and fell backwards. They both toppled to the floor, Lucas once again sprawled inelegantly on his backside, only this time with someone on top of him.

"Lucas, I'm so sorry, I don't know how that happened," Fiona apologized breathelssly, scrambling away from him and the sudden jar she'd felt by his closeness, by his touch.

"Do you always send your clients to the ground, Miss Miller, or am I just the lucky one?" Lucas asked dryly, noting this was the second time he'd endured such an accident in her presence.

Fiona seemed not to hear the question as she rose and peered at the ceiling. "You know, maybe it'd be better if I ran the cable from the second floor down the first, instead from the first to the second," she mumbled out loud, trying to organize the work in her mind.

"Might be worth a try," Lucas agreed, as he too rose, a hint of sarcasm in his voice. He watched Fiona pick up a small saw and her hand drill and head to the second floor. Lucas rolled his eyes slightly. Not more holes. Not more holes in his building. Would it survive? he wondered. Survive the onslaught of one Miss Fiona Miller?

Lucas grumbled as he headed back to the bar counter and reached for the telephone there. He clicked the receiver a few times but there was no response, the line was dead. Lucas let out a long sigh and set the phone down. She must have disconnected the line. Fiona must have accidentally disconnected the line with the current work she was doing.

Unable to help it, Lucas braced his arms on the bar top and began to grouse out loud, "That woman! She's going to be the death of me! If the falls don't kill me, now she's drilling holes all over my building, and I don't even have a telephone that works! She's driving me crazy!" he complained to no one in particular.

Lee Coulter, standing at the bar with a glass raised to his lips suddenly stopped mid-air. Uh oh, he thought. He recognized that frustation, that frustration of being driven to distraction by a woman. It was not unlike his early encounters with Rosemary Leveaux. Lee downed the rest of his drink, then approached Lucas at the bar, who still stood there shaking his head from side to side. Lee raised a fist and tapped Lucas on his arm near his shoulder. Lucas looked up.

"What?" he asked at the strange gesture.

"Nothing," Lee replied, something like sympathy in his voice. "Just...good luck buddy," he finally amended with a small smirk, thinking perhaps it wouldn't be long before Lucas joined them, the group of married or attached men, before he turned and headed out of the saloon, leaving Lucas staring after him in consternation.


	15. Chapter 15

This chapter is a little darker than the show would go I think, but it's what I saw in my mind when I first saw Nathan's arrival in town and what I surmised from the little bit they told us about him on the show. I'll also add an addendum at the end of the chapter explaining some discrepancies between my story and what's been presented so far on the show.

x+x+x

Elizabeth Thornton stood at the front of the classroom, giving a lesson on great figures in history, while simultaneously casting a worried eye on 8-year-old Oliver Thompson. He was a new arrival at the Hope Valley school and Elizabeth was worried about him. He was uncommunicative, not wanting to participate in the classroom activities and sat by himself at recess and lunch.

He was displaying all the usual new-kid-in-school symptoms, ones Elizabeth was keenly aware of, but in Oliver's case they did not seem to be abating with time. He'd already been to school for almost a month and still no change in his demeanour, he was still withdrawn and quiet, far quieter than any child should be.

About the only thing he did do, Elizabeth noted, was draw pictures. Of Mounties in particular, lots and lots of Mounties. Mounties on horseback, Mounties saluting, Mounties capturing bad guys. Always careful to colour the Mounties with a bright red coat. The drawings were actually quite good and while Elizabeth did not want to discourage his artwork she wished he would also devote some time to some of the other classroom curriculum.

It was at the lunchtime break that she picked up one of the drawings to study it and then had a sudden idea.

It only took Elizabeth a few minutes to reach the Mountie office. The door was already open, letting in cooler air on the warm day, and Elizabeth headed inside.

At Elizabeth's appearance, Nathan Grant immediately rose to his feet. "Elizabeth?" with a slight concern in his voice, knowing this was an unusual time of the day for her to be here.

"Nathan," Elizabeth said. "I was wondering if you could help me," she said.

"Of course!" Nathan said, wondering what police services she required.

"It's with a student of mine," Elizabeth began.

"A student?" Nathan blinked.

"Yes," Elizabeth said. "One of my new students is not adjusting well at school and I'm out of ideas to help him. I was wondering if you could talk to him," she suggested.

"Me?" Nathan was actually startled. "Why me?" he wondered, knowing child behaviour was her expertise, not his. "Why would talking to me help?"

"Because of this," Elizabeth said and laid Oliver's drawing on the desk in front of him. "He seems fascinated with Mounties and I just thought talking to a real live Mountie might draw him out."

Nathan peered at the drawing. "That's quite good," he said, squinting at the image, even wondering a bit if it was of him or just some generic Mountie. "But I don't really know how I could help," he stated.

"Please Nathan," Elizabeth said simply, her eyes soft and imploring.

Nathan knew he could not refuse, even if he doubted his ability to help. He could not refuse her after all she'd done to help him, to help Allie. He could not refuse her when she stood there in front him looking so lovely, her face glowing with kindness and concern.

"Alright," Nathan nodded. "When should I come?"

"When school's out?" Elizabeth suggested. At Nathan's nod, Elizabeth turned and left.

It was the end of the school day and Nathan hovered near the schoolhouse doors as the children filed out. "Allie, can you go play at Emily's house? I'll pick you up later," he instructed his niece as she filed past him.

"Okay, Uncle Nathan," Allie replied as she ran off with her friend, Nathan watching her go. A moment later, Elizabeth appeared at the door.

"Thank you for coming, Nathan," she said, opening the door wider for his admittance. "I've asked Oliver to stay behind," she said, gesturing to the row where the child sat. As they both neared the child, who was busily drawing a picture in front of him, Elizabeth cast a final glance at Nathan before she approached the child.

"Oliver, there's someone I'd like you to meet," she said brightly. Oliver raised his head. "Oliver, this is Constable Grant of the North West Royal Mounted Police," she introduced impressively.

The child looked up and blinked, something like awe on his face. "You're a Mountie!" the child exclaimed, with more animation than Elizabeth had ever seen from him. Already progress was being made.

"I am," Nathan confirmed and smiled. "Mrs. Thornton was telling me you like to draw pictures of Mounties. Can I see some of them?" he asked.

At the child's delighted nod, Nathan slid into the seat next to him. "Oh, I like this one," he said, admiring a drawing of a Mountie on a horse. As the child began to show him more and more pictures from the stack nearby, Nathan made surreptitious glances at the child, not sure what he was supposed to do or say. Suddenly when the child reached for a paper and his shirt gaped away from his neck, Nathan thought he saw a splotch of something dark...something dark where it should have been light. A sudden suspicion, Nathan reached around the child's back, "Hey, what about this one over here?" he said, reaching for a picture, a pretext to deliberately brush his arm across the child's back. At the child's flinch, Nathan let his breath out slowly. He knew that flinch, recognized that flinch.

"Oliver, I'm just going to talk to Mrs. Thornton for a minute, I'll be right back," he said.

As Nathan approached her, Elizabeth's eyes widened in surprise. That was it? He was done? He'd hardly spoken to the child. He couldn't have made any progress with him yet.

"Nathan? What? What is it?" Maybe he'd only spent a few minutes with Oliver but as Nathan approached her Elizabeth could read on his face his own concern.

Nathan looked back at Oliver, making sure they weren't being overheard. "What's his home life like?" he asked Elizabeth.

"There's just his father," Elizabeth said. "I only met him once, the day he first brought Oliver to class." At Nathan's enquiring look, knowing he was asking her opinion, Elizabeth continued, "He seemed...aloof," she said, trying to be kind in her assessment, trying not to judge, but also knowing her immediate reaction to Oliver's father was one of dislike.

But Nathan was nodding, as if her answer did not surprise him. "I think..." he started, then stopped, the thought and suggestion was painful.

"You think what?" Elizabeth prompted, confused by the conflicting emotions she was reading as they flickered across Nathan's face.

"I think we should take him to see Doctor Shepherd," Nathan finally said.

"Why? You think he's sick?" Elizabeth asked with total surprise. Not once had it occurred to her that Oliver was sick. That illness for the reason for his withdrawal.

But Nathan didn't answer her. He simply remained silent, his mouth a grim line. "Okay," Elizabeth finally said, not fully understanding but agreeing to his suggestion.

x+x+x

Elizabeth sat on a chair in the doctor's office as they waited for Doctor Shepherd to complete his examination, the child, the doctor and Nurse Carter hidden behind a curtained partition. Elizabeth sat, but Nathan did not. Hat in hand, he paced restlessly from one spot to the next, something agitated in his manner, as Elizabeth eyed him with almost as much worry as she had for the child.

Inside the cubicle, Carson Shepherd eased the shirt from Oliver Thompson's back, masking a quick intake of breath as he looked up to meet the eyes of Faith Carter, his nurse who was assisting him. Her own eyes reflected the same horror back to his.

"Oliver, how did you get these bruises?" Carson asked the child gently. There was a patchwork of ugly bruises across the child's back, some weeks old, some fresh.

Oliver shrugged. "I fell down," he gave an improbable explanation.

"You fell down," Doctor Shepherd repeated, then came around to look directly in the child's eyes. "And anything else?" he asked.

Oliver broke eye contact with the doctor and looked down. "Sometimes...sometimes my Daddy hits me, when I'm bad," he confessed.

Carson swallowed at the painful admission. "Okay, Oliver, we can put your shirt on now," he said, looking up at Faith, his eyes instructing her to distract the child while he went out to speak with Elizabeth and Nathan.

As Carson came out to the pair, Nathan strode up to him. "Well?" he asked.

"Oliver is covered in bruises, quite painful ones," he informed them on a hush, while Nathan expelled the air from his lungs and looked upwards, closing his eyes at the news, at confirmation of what he already suspected.

"Bruises? From what?" Elizabeth asked, perhaps a tad innocently.

"He says...," Carson hesitated. "He says his Dad hits him when he's bad," Carson recounted.

Elizabeth gasped at the information, but Nathan was already striding out the door. "Nathan!" she called after him, then ran after him. "Nathan! Where are you going?" she asked, raising her skirts as she struggled to keep up with his long strides.

"Elizabeth, can you take care of Oliver? And Allie? Can you get Allie from Emily's and take her home with you?" Nathan threw the questions over his shoulder.

"Of course!" Elizabeth threw the answer back, just as Nathan reached his horse, untying it and making to mount. "But where are you going?" she asked as he swung onto his horse and made to ride away.

"To do my job!" he yelled, something fierce in his voice, before he turned suddenly and was gone, leaving Elizabeth to stare after him.

x+x+x

As Nathan dismounted in front of the Thompson cabin, or perhaps shack was a better word, his nose wrinkled at the smell. He could already smell the alcohol from outside, he thought with distaste. He strode onto the porch and rapped loudly at the door.

"Mounted Police, open up!" he called out to whoever might be on the other side.

The door almost immediately flung open to reveal a dishevelled man. "What in tarnation?" the man asked, non too pleased to have his whiskey drinking interrupted.

"I'm here about your son, Oliver?" Nathan informed him.

"What about him?" the man asked, wondering why a Mountie was on his doorstep. "He in trouble? That no good kid...," the man trailed off displeased.

"Oliver's not in trouble," Nathan was quick to clarify. "He's at the infirmary. He's...injured," he explained, the man looking surprised. "Bruises," Nathan clarified. "Do you know anything about that?" Nathan quizzed him.

"Bruises? That ain't nothing," the man said. "I thought it was something serious."

"I'm asking you how Oliver got those bruises," Nathan said, his voice dropping low and menacing.

"Listen, Mountie, it's my business how I discipline my own kid, you hear?" the man said defiantly.

But Nathan had heard. He'd heard enough. Suddenly he pushed the man face forward into the door, pulling his arms behind him as he cuffed his wrists. "Discipline...," Nathan corrected him, drawing each word out for emphasis, "...doesn't leave bruises."

x+x+x

With Oliver's father in jail for abuse, Nathan had gone immediately to Bill Avery for help. In some ways it was especially helpful to have their own judge in town. And Bill did not disappoint. After a little investigating, he'd informed Nathan of his findings.

"Oliver has an aunt in Fort Hedley. She's been trying to win custody of Oliver since her sister died. But the courts always turned her down, saying there weren't grounds," Bill informed Nathan.

"She's got grounds now," Nathan met Bill's eyes with the information, an acknowledgement between them.

"That's a fact," Bill nodded. "And I'll see to it she wins this time," he added.

"Thanks, Bill," Nathan said in appreciation. And in the end it wasn't so difficult after all. With their testimony, Doctor Shepherd's, Nathan's and Elizabeth's, it was an easy judgement for the court to grant Oliver's aunt emergency custody while his father faced charges of abuse.

It wasn't too long afterwards that Oliver and his aunt were at the stage depot, ready to leave Hope Valley and head home to Fort Hedley. Nathan and Elizabeth were there to see them off.

"I can't thank you both enough," said Margaret Wilkes. "And I promise to take good care of Oliver. He's my sister's only child and I'll love him as my own," she told them.

"I know you will," Elizabeth said, reassured by her words as Nathan nodded, then crouched down low in front of Oliver, whose eyes were fixed on the ground in front of him. Nathan knew this was hard for the child, now basically having lost both parents and starting anew in a new place with a new relative. And taking his memories with him. Especially those ones, the painful ones. The painful memories and the painful words. And suddenly something in Nathan's heart could not let the little boy carry those memories or those words alone. He had to try to help.

"Oliver," he began, speaking low. "Oliver, I want to tell you something. When I...," Nathan hesitated at the difficult words. "When I was a little boy, my daddy used to hit me too," he said. "He used to hit me and tell me I was bad," Nathan confided.

Oliver, who'd been staring at the ground, finally looked up at the words, uncomprehending. "You? You're a Mountie!" he said, not understanding how he could be bad and be a Mountie.

Nathan nodded his head. "I'm a Mountie" he repeated, impressing the point. "Oliver, I wasn't bad and neither are you. Okay? You know that?" he asked.

"Okay," the little boy nodded.

"Good," Nathan said in relief, then reached into his pocket. "Here, I have something for you," he said, drawing out a carved wooden figure and handing it to the boy.

"It's a Mountie!" Oliver exclaimed in surprise and pleasure.

"Yes, it is," Nathan smiled at the appreciation of his handiwork. He had carved the small wooden figure himself, and painted it with a bright red coat, black pants with yellow stripes at the sides. "You know," Nathan said, pointing to the figure in the boy's hand. "There's a little bit of me in there, to take with you, to watch over you. So you're not alone. Okay?" At the child's nod, Nathan continued, "And I'll come visit real soon. I promise." The child nodded again and Nathan reached to give the boy a hug, squeezing him tightly while the child laid his head on his shoulder. Nathan pulled back, then rose to his feet. He watched Oliver's aunt take the boy's hand and help him up into the stagecoach before she followed behind.

The stage pulled out and Nathan watched it a moment, before he felt Elizabeth's eyes on him. She'd watched the scene with surprise at first, then compassion, then admiration.

Nathan suddenly turned away, some overwhelming feeling washing over him and he strode quickly back to his office. Once inside, he reached to his neck to unbutton his red coat, feeling suddenly stifled, like he needed some air, like he needed to breathe.

His coat discarded, Nathan stood looking out the back window, his feet braced apart and his hands on his hips as drew some steadying breaths. It wasn't long before he felt her presence. Elizabeth's. His back was to her but he knew she was there.

"I didn't say it for sympathy," Nathan clarified, still staring out the window, not turning around.

"I know," Elizabeth spoke softly to his back.

"I said it so he'd know he's not alone. He's not the only one," Nathan said, his shoulders rising and falling with his breaths.

"I know," Elizabeth repeated softly.

"My father," Nathan said, shaking his head. "What a piece of work," he said with contempt. "There wasn't a day I didn't get hit, or shoved around, or told I was bad or useless," the words were filled with pain and hurt, but it's like once he'd started he could not stop. "And the _only _thing he ever taught me was how not to be like him. If he said black, I said white. If he said stop, I said go. I knew that if I only did everything exactly the opposite to him that I would be the better man. He gambled and drank away our livelihood, he drove my mother to an early grave and my sister to the arms of a scoundrel. And he's exactly where he should be," Nathan ended on a long deep sigh, Elizabeth remembering that Allie had told her her grandfather was in prison.

Oh, how it all made so much sense now, Elizabeth thought. His difficulty with words, with telling Allie he loved her. It would be hard to know the words when you've never heard them. His disdain for the saloon, the drinking and gambling and even for Lucas, she thought, knowing there was still tension between the two men. It all seemed to make sense now, the pieces of the puzzle falling into place.

"Nathan," Elizabeth breathed softly, compassionately, to his back as she stole closer. If it was a difficult confession for Nathan, it was equally difficult for Elizabeth to hear. For she had a love of children, a tender feeling for the hurting heart of a child. And although this one was in the body of a grown man, she still felt its pull. Elizabeth stole close to Nathan, a hand hovered over his back near his shoulder as she struggled. Could she? Was it proper? In the end, her heart won out and she touched him, laying her hand on him and just holding it there, a gesture of comfort and caring.

Not moving, not turning around, Nathan felt her touch, and closed his eyes, letting her tender compassion wash over him.

x+x+x

Author's note: I just wanted to say that I know that on the show it is mentioned that Nathan's mother is still alive (Nathan says she is too old to raise Allie so that is why he has her). I've killed her off in my story because it just worked better that way (being driven to an early grave), because it reinforces why Nathan has Allie and makes it more dramatic what his father has done. So that was a deliberate choice not an oversight. Please leave comments if you can, I love to know people are reading and it keeps me motivated to write. :)


	16. Chapter 16

Just a note: the next few chapters are Lucas/Fiona. I know it's a bit of a detour from the E/N storyline and I feel a bit like I might be disappointing those of you who enjoy their story, but Lucas' story is in my mind too, so I wanted to tell it (but rest assured E/N will return later on!)

x+x+x

Fiona Miller sighed as she headed over to the Queen of Hearts saloon. In a way she hoped he wasn't there. She hoped Lucas wasn't there. She knew that the installation of telephones throughout the saloon and hotel had gone anything but smoothly and she sensed a growing impatience on his part with the delays.

It's not that Fiona deemed herself incompetent. In fact, without tooting her own horn, she would have said the opposite was true. She was extremely competent, a woman ahead of her time even, but for some strange reason whenever she was around Lucas she was beset by technical problems, her usual competency replaced by an almost comical ineptitude. But to be fair, wiring an entire establishment was quite an undertaking, one she had never taken on before. Perhaps she should have requested help, asked for assistance from head office in San Francisco, but she'd been reluctant to do that. She'd wanted to prove to Lucas she was up for the task, maybe to win his admiration and respect even, she thought derisively, noting the dismal failure in that regard and not wondering long on why that should have been important to her. She only knew that things hadn't worked out as planned and the last thing she had won was anyone's admiration.

Anyway, the work was mostly completed now, only some strange re-occurring malfunctions to address, which brought her to the saloon several times weekly.

As Fiona was about to head into the saloon, she caught sight of a figure dressed in a deep maroon dress near the side of the building, almost in the precise location where many of the telelphone lines were attached, leading into the building.

"Rosemary?" Fiona said as she drew near. Whatever was Mrs. Coulter doing here, peering up at the telephone lines running along the building. In fact. Rosemary held one of the wires between two fingers and was gently pulling on it, as if testing where it led.

"Oh, Fiona," Rosemary said, letting go of the wire and turning with a somewhat guilty expression on her face.

"Rosemary, what are you doing?" Fiona asked, suddenly suspicious. She'd thought for some time that strange things were happening with the wiring, and now here was Mrs. Coulter acting strangely with those same wires.

"Nothing," Rosemary said, clasping her hands together, in a voice that clearly said nothing was something.

"You're...it's you!" Fiona suddenly exclaimed in realization. "You're the one who's been sabotaging my work!" She'd known it. Known something strange was going on, with wires suddenly disconnecting from phones, seemingly on their own.

"Now Fiona," Rosemary said is a deliberately calm voice. "Whyever would I do such a thing?" she laughed off the possibility.

Why indeeed? thought Fiona. Why indeed would Hope Valley's notorious matchmaker sabotage her work, the result requiring her to make numerous visits to the saloon to fix?

"ROSEMARY!" Fiona expelled her breath, her eyes widening in shock and sudden realization. Rosemary was matchmaking! Rosemary was matchmaking her and Lucas!

"Now Fiona," Rosemary said in a placating voice. "I've got eyes, haven't I?" she clucked knowingly. "I can see there's a little something there between you and Lucas and I..." she didn't get the rest out.

"There is not!" Fiona retorted in outrage, colour infusing her face at the implication. "And you stop messing with my wires! Do you hear? Stop it!" Fiona demanded, wanting to put a stop to this insanity, to the ludicrousness.

At Rosemary's slight apologetic shrug, Fiona turned on heel to march away. She only got four or five paces when she stopped, biting her lip as she struggled internally with a thought. Giving in, she turned and marched back to Rosemary, all the way up to the saloon wall.

"If you pull this one out, you'll do the most damage," she said quickly, pointing to one of the many wires, then turned and continued to march off.

A shocked Rosemary Coulter stared after her, her mouth open in both surprise and delight. Was she right or was she right? There _was _something there, at least she knew for certain now there was on Fiona's side.

Rosemary turned to the wires and choose the one she'd been instructed to and gave it a good hard satisfying tug.

x+x+x

Inside the saloon, Fiona was repairing the latest telephone malfunction, the phone at the bar kept dropping calls, cutting in and out. Some wires must be loose somewhere, Fiona surmised.

"Do you think you'll get it working this time?" Lucas Bouchard asked dryly as he watched her work. It was quiet in the middle of the day, not many customers in the saloon, and conversing with Fiona Miller was the most interesting option at the moment. Well, at any moment, Lucas had to admit to himself.

"Just a few wires need tightening," Fiona commented distractedly. She made adjustments then retried the phone, clicking the receiver, but nothing seemed to work and the line remained unresponsive.

"Hmm," she said out loud, puzzling over the problem. "Maybe the handset needs to be replaced," she mulled. "I could order a new one. It would take a week to get here," she informed Lucas apologetically.

"What's another week?" Lucas said a bit bitingly in mock humour. Goodness knew the continuing saga of malfunctioning phones was nothing new to him. What was one more delay?

"Lucas, I'm doing my best," Fiona told him, his slight dismay not going unnoticed.

"I'm sure you are," he said dryly. "And seeing that you're the only game in town, I guess I'm stuck with you," he said, immediately regretting the words, even before he saw the sudden hurt come to Fiona's eyes, a sudden glossiness stinging their surface. Why had he said that? He hadn't meant it. They were always doing that, weren't they? Sort of bantering with each other, making little digs. Playful digs he thought, until he suddently knew he'd gone too far. "Fiona, I didn't mean..." he began, intending some sort of apology for his brusque words, but Fiona was already turning away.

"I'll be back when the new telephone arrives," she said shortly. her clipped tone hiding her hurt as she quickly brushed past him to head out the door. She knew things hadn't gone well with the installations, knew Lucas was frustrated at times, so could she really blame him? And she _was _the only game in town, especially since she'd chosen to do the work herself and not call in any assistance. And why was that? she asked herself. To impress him with her skills? Ha, see how well that had gone.

"Fiona!" Lucas called to her departing back, but it was no good, she was already out the door, leaving Lucas to stand there, rubbing a hand to the back of his neck in confusion. Why had he done that? he berated himself. Why had he been so careless with his words? And more importantly, why had the hurt in Fiona's eyes affected him so deeply. He felt lower than low at being the cause of her distress, something strange pulling in his heart. Not understanding it, not knowing what to name it, he let out a long sigh of decision. Fiona had tried to do all the fixing lately, now it was his turn. His turn to try and fix things, to fix this.


	17. Chapter 17

Special thanks to the Guest who said she laughed out loud reading the last chapter, I never know if my attempts to write humour are coming across so I'm so happy that for you it did! :) The chapter below was one of my favourites to write, and I hope you all enjoy it too. As always, I love to get encouraging feedback. Thanks!

x+x+x

It was a few days later and Lucas surveyed the packed saloon with satisfaction. It was a late summer dance, a "Harvest Moon Dance" the ladies organizing it had quaintly named it, and Lucas was pleased to see such a strong turnout. That meant she would come too. Fiona would come too, and he would find her, apologize to her, make her laugh and all would be well again between them. Because in truth, these past couple of days had been misery for him and he could not wait to right his wrong. But it did seem she was a little late in arriving, he thought, noting the dance was well underway and wondering ironically if her delay in coming served him right for his misstep.

Up in her room above the dress shop, Fiona Miller tried on one dress after another, finally sitting on the edge of her bed in defeat. Maybe she shouldn't go. Maybe she shouldn't go to the dance. Maybe he wouldn't want her to, she fretted. She always kind of suspected that Lucas found her troublesome, an annoyance, but she hadn't wanted to fully believe it until his words to her the other day. That since she was the ony telephone operator in town, he was stuck with her, in a tone implying he would have preferred anyone else. Fiona sighed. Just because she loved parties and people and general liveliness didn't mean she had to go. Not if he didn't want her there.

Elizabeth Thornton looked around the crowded room at the saloon, decked in colourful Fall decorations and smiled. It looked like Rosemary had outdone herself with the party preparations and never had she seen so many people congregated together. Even some of the older children were there, getting their first taste of a community dance. Well, there was one absence, she noted. Nathan wasn't there. He had some Mountie duty over in Brookfield and was spending a few days there. With Allie at a sleepover, and Laura watching Little Jack, Elizabeth had come to the dance, to celebrate the harvest with her community. And it certainly was a beautiful night for it. The air calm and clear, still warm with late summer temperatures.

As she scanned the room, Elizabeth realized another notable absence. Fiona. Fiona Miller. Why wasn't she here? She'd helped to organize the event, surely she should be here? After a quick consultation with Rosemary, who also wondered about the missing woman, Elizabeth headed out the door thinking it wouldn't hurt to check. She knew Fiona lived in the space above the dress shop so she went there, and climbed the outside stairs that ran alongside the building up to the second floor. At the top, she rapped lightly on the door.

"Fiona? It's Elizabeth," she called and waited only a few seconds before the door opened.

"Elizabeth!" Fiona said, surprised to find a sudden guest to her home. She blinked a moment, then with courtesy invited Elizabeth in.

As Elizabeth entered Fiona's room her first reaction was one of surprise. She had never been here before and what she knew of the vibrant and effervescent Fiona was completely at odds to this drab dreary room. Only Fiona's brightly fashioned clothes hanging on a nearby peg spoke of Fiona's inhabitation there. But Elizabeth didn't take long to wonder on the anomaly.

"Fiona, aren't you coming to the dance?" she asked, noting that Fiona was already dressed for it.

"No, I don't think so," Fiona prevaricated. "I think I'll just stay home."

"But why?" Elizabeth asked. "Aren't you feeling well?"

Unable to facilitate a lie, Fiona replied honestly, "I feel okay. I just think I'll stay home. He doesn't want me there anyway."

"He? Who doesn't want you there?" Elizabeth asked at the strange statement, her eyes narrowing on Fiona in confusion.

Realizing she had said too much, Fiona backtracked. "I mean, it's probably better if I just stay home," she said, then bit her lip as that statement didn't sound right either.

Not making such sense out of Fiona's words, Elizabeth pleaded persuasively, "Please come, Fiona. The whole town is there and we miss you."

Fiona chewed her lip with indecision. Part of her wanted to go, really wanted to go. She loved parties and music and people, and goodness knew there was nothing appealing about remaining in her lifeless little room by herself. What had Elizabeth said? Everyone was there. The whole town. That meant a full house. That meant it would be so crowded she would not even have to see Lucas, nor he her. Maybe...

"Okay, Elizabeth, maybe I will go," she finally agreed.

"Good," Elizabeth smiled.

It was only as they were crossing the street and approaching the saloon that Fiona once again displayed some hesitancy. Feeling a bit nervous about her decision to come after all, Fiona turned to Elizabeth just outside the saloon doors and pulled on her arm to stop her.

"Elizabeth...I think...I think I'll just sit out here for a little while and listen to the music," she told her.

"Fiona!" Elizabeth said, a slight reprimand in her voice. She'd gotten Fiona this far only for her to bail at the saloon doors?

"Really. It's such a lovely night," Fiona said convincingly. "And I'd just like to sit out here and listen to the music for a while," she said.

"Well, alright," Elizabeth said, somewhat disappointed as she watched Fiona settle on a far bench in a darkened corner of the saloon verandah. "But you come in after a while, you hear?" she admonished in her best schoolmarm voice.

"Okay," Fiona smiled in the darkness.

As Elizabeth re-entered the saloon, she looked around at the crowd and thought it really was a shame Fiona was missing all this. She really couldn't understand her, she always seemed to love any kind of gathering, the livelier and louder the better. Oh well. Elizabeth sighed, then spotted Lucas off to the side of the room, his eyes scanning repeatedly over the crowd.

"Lucas! What a great turnout for the dance!" she said as she approached him.

"Well, I can't take any credit for it," he said simply. "I only supplied the building, the organizers did all the rest," he said.

"Well, it was still nice of you to let the town use your building," Elizabeth stated, after all this was not a money-making event for Lucas. The food, the punch, the decorations, everything was supplied by the organizing committee and Lucas was not making any profit from it. Elizabeth looked around. "And just about everyone is here. I've never seen so many people!" she observed.

"No, not everyone," Lucas countered. How could she not notice? Not notice Fiona wasn't here? He certainly had. He'd been scanning the room for a good 45 minutes watching for her.

"Yeah, you're right. There's a couple of people who aren't here," Elizabeth agreed. "Nathan had to go to Brookfield. And I know Anna's mother is hosting a sleepover," she said, counting off only the few names of people who weren't there.

"And..." Lucas trailed off.

"And who?" Elizabeth looked at him.

"You know, that telephone operator lady," Lucas said, deliberately obtuse in naming her.

"Fiona? You mean Fiona?" Elizabeth said back to him incredulous. "You mean the woman who's been in your saloon installing telephones for the past months? That you've spoken to dozens of times. Is that the 'telephone operator lady' you mean?" she asked, arching a brow at him.

Lucas sighed. He'd tried to be casual, pretend like her presence didn't concern him or something and it had backfired horribly on him.

"Yeah, Fiona," he admitted his ruse.

Elizabeth cast Lucas a knowing glance, just beginning to realize something. And also beginning to realize who the 'he' was that Fiona thought didn't want her at the dance. "Fiona is here," Elizabeth took pleasure in informing him.

"She is? Where?" Lucas immediately re-scanned the room. He couldn't have missed her. He couldn't have.

"She's here," Elizabeth parcelled the information to him bit by bit. "She's outside. On the verandah."

"Outside? Why?" Lucas asked, confused.

"Hmm. She wouldn't come in. She thinks you don't want her here," Elizabeth stated with some certainty.

"Why? Why would she think that?" Lucas was well and truly shocked. Why would Fiona think he didn't want her at the dance. Hadn't he been waiting around all night just to talk to her? "Why would she think that?" he repeated.

Elizabeth shot him a look, perhaps one with a smidge of sisterly advice. "Maybe...maybe you should go ask her," she suggested, then turned with a smile and left before he had a chance to reply.

Lucas scratched his neck a moment, then casually turned and headed out the back door of the saloon.

As Fiona sat in her quiet corner of the verandah, she heard the music and laughter from inside and something panged a little in her heart at her aloneness. Oh, there were a few others milling around outside, spilling out from the overcrowded saloon, but those were mostly couples seeking a quiet spot to talk and it made her aloneness all the more amplified.

"Fiona?" Fiona jerked, startled to hear her name. "Fiona, what are you doing out here?" it was Lucas Bouchard asking the question of her. He must have come around from the back to get so close to her without her realizing.

"Lucas," Fiona immediately rose and took a few steps away, around the side of the bench. She would have gone further but her back met the wall of the saloon.

"Fiona?" Lucas questioned, since his first question had only resulted in her silence. He tried to read her face, but it was dark and all he could get was that he had startled her and for some reason she was uncomfortable in his presence. Had he done that to her? And the way she stood now, backed against the wall, like she was trying to get away from him. He didn't like it. He didn't like it one bit.

"Fiona, if I said anything the other day to upset you...," Lucas immediately launched into his apology. "Please know that I am truly sorry for anything I said."

"You don't have to apologize, Lucas," Fiona said, finally breaking her silence. "I know, and it's okay," she said. Lucas thought that was a strange acceptance of an apology.

"What do you know and what's okay?" Lucas was growing more confused by the moment.

Fiona knew. Knew that she was troublesome, that she was an annoyance that tried his patience in more ways than one. He shouldn't have to apologize for the truth. But she didn't say those words, she merely stared back at him in the darkness.

"Fiona, please come inside," Lucas changed tactics to plead. "I'd like to ask you to dance," he invited with a smile, hoping to persuade her. Hoping to get their friendship back to what it was and end this uncomfortable interlude.

But Fiona remained silent, not moving or speaking and Lucas sighed. "Well then, if you won't come inside, will you dance with me out here?" he asked, holding out his hand, palm up, towards her.

Fiona stared down at his hand, feeling the irresistible pull of something she couldn't name. She pushed herself slightly away from the wall, and reached to take his hand, the motions unfolding without conscious thought, her body just moving in automatic response to his.

Lucas took her in his arms and began to turn in gentle circles on the verandah. It didn't matter that the music playing was rather lively, the steps of the couple were slow and methodic, to their own rhythm, their own pace.

As they continued their slow dance, Lucas began to feel an awareness of her he'd never noticed before. That scent of roses, was that her? That slight breath of air on his neck, was that her or was that just the night breeze skittering by? And did he feel a tremble in her hand just now? Had he done that? He tried to look down at her, tried to make sense of the new and strange feelings coursing through him, but she would not look at him. Her eyes were fixed on his tie as if she found it relentlessly fascinating. Even in the midst of the strange sensations flooding through him he could not help the small smile that came to his lips. But then more thoughts came, more feelings. How soft she was, how womanly. How well she fit in his arms, as if perfectly sized just for him. Lucas had danced with women before, but nothing matched this sweet encounter on a darkened verandah, the soft glow of the harvest moon shining over them.

But then the music ended and they both stopped moving. Lucas held her just a second or two longer, then Fiona backed out of his arms, blinking up at him, her eyes wide with some realizations of her own. She had not been unaffected by him, by his touch. "I have to go now," she breathed softly, still backing away, before she turned and was quickly gone.

Lucas took a deep breath, a forearm braced on a pillar, the other hand drawing his coat away to fist at his waist. He looked down and let out another deep breath. What had just happened here? he wondered. He'd only meant to apologize, to get things back to where they were. But suddenly Lucas knew that something had shifted between them and that they would never be the same again. _He _would never be the same again. And he realized something else.

He didn't mind that one bit.


	18. Chapter 18

Clara Stanton headed into Judge Bill Avery's office with some trepidation. She had to admit she found the judge to be a little intimidating, and a little brusque and forthright as Bill always was, characteristics that were somewhat at odds with her own sweet disposition. But she needed Bill's help so she put her qualms aside and pushed ahead.

"Clara!" Bill said when he saw her.

"Mr. Avery," Clara replied.

"Please, Clara, we've known each other a long time, it's Bill," Bill corrected. At Clara's nod, Bill gestured to her to sit. "You look like you need some help," Bill surmised.

"Yes, I was wondering..." Clara began, as she began pulling papers out her hand bag. "I got this letter, and I don't understand it, and I didn't know who to ask..." she trailed off.

"I'd be happy to look at it, Clara. Happy to help in whatever way I can," Bill said, knowing his job as judge entailed more than just putting in time in the courtroom. It was to help the people of Hope Valley and he was happy to do it. It even brought some hidden satisfaction for him, since he liked to help, and in particular to solve a problem or a mystery. Bill came around and sat on the other side of his desk. "Now, what's the problem."

"It's this," Clara said, handing him a letter across the desk.

Bill perused the contents, his brow wrinkling as he tried to make sense of it. But Clara was already filling him in.

"I wrote to Pacific Northwest Mining...about my name change. You know Jesse and I are getting married soon," she began, referring her upcoming wedding after getting engaged six months ago. "And I wanted to let Pacific know about my name change so they can change it on the cheques they send me. The widow survivor cheques," she told him, as Bill nodded in understanding. All the widows of the men killed in that horrible mine collapse six years ago were receiving compensation from the company. It wasn't much, but most of the widows relied on it. "And that was their reply," Clara said, pointing to the letter Bill held in his hands.

Bill scanned the contents. In reply to her request for a name change, Pacific informed Clara that her benefits had ceased six months ago, as they had for all the widows. The company expressed surprise she was unaware of this as not only had no further cheques been issued but she would have received written notification that they were ending. "It says here the payments ceased six months ago, Clara," Bill repeated the contents to her.

"I know it does, but they haven't. I've still been getting the cheques, and I don't understand..." Clara said. Bill didn't understand it either.

"Clara, do you have any of the cancelled cheques with you?" he asked, as Clara nodded and pulled out a stack of them from her handbag and handed them to him.

"Can I keep these for a bit?" he asked, glancing at them briefly but knowing he'd need a bit of time to sort out the issue.

"Of course," said Clara.

"Leave this with me, Clara. I"ll get back to you as soon as I can," he said.

Clara let out a breath of relief, knowing Bill would look into it. It had been weighing on her mind if she was erroneously accepting payments she shouldn't be, but more than anything she just wanted it cleared up. And it was a relief to know Bill would help. Maybe...maybe he wasn't so brusque and intimidating after all, she thought, giving him a smile as she headed out the door.

x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x

Bill Avery let out a sigh a few days later as he sat at his desk. What was he missing? he wondered, puzzling on the problem Clara had left with him. His first order of business was to see if just Clara was affected by this apparent accounting oversight by the mining company. But it wasn't just her. All of the widows he had checked with were continuing to receive payments. And none of them had received any notification that payments were to stop. It just didn't make sense.

Bill looked down at the cancelled cheques Clara had given him. He spread them on the desk in front of him and glanced across them. Suddenly he noticed something. The words. Something about the words were wrong. He peered at one of the cheques and spoke the words aloud:

Pacific Northern Mining

That was on a recent cheque. He quickly rifled to an older cheque, all of them appearing identical at first glance. But the older cheque had it right. The name.

Pacific Northwest Mining

It was such a subtle difference he hadn't spotted it at first. And likely the widows receiving cheques wouldn't have noticed either, the cheques appearing identical in all other respects. Bill rifled through the cheques a bit more, drawing more conclusions. It looked like the name change coincided to the timeframe the letter from Pacific indicated payments should have ended. Who was this Pacific Northern Mining and why were they sending money to the widows of Hope Valley?

Bill picked up his telephone, and clicked the receiver to connect with switchboard. It took only a few minutes for Fiona to connect him with the District Office of Records. Once he identified himself and posed his question, Bill waited on the line while the clerk looked up his information. Who owned Pacific Northern Mining.

"It looks like it's a subsidiary of another company," the clerk came back on the line to say.

"What company?" Bill asked, somewhat impatiently. "A subsidiary of what company?"

The clerk read off the name slowly, and Bill sucked in his breath, finally understanding, finally knowing.

"Could you repeat that?" Bill asked, knowing it was true, but not believing his ears and needing to hear it again. The clerk obliged, the words transmitting clearly over the telephone wires. The name of the company paying the widows.

"Gowen Petroleum Enterprises."

x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x

Bill Avery sat alone in the Mayor's office not 30 minutes later after his telephone call to the Records office as he poured over the town's ledgers with new eyes. Of course he hadn't seen it before but now he did, now that he knew and understood. And it was all there, plain to see, just as he'd known it would be. He closed the ledger and sat back in the chair, waiting. Waiting for Henry Gowen.

x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x

Henry Gowen headed to the Mayor's office that afternoon. Things were running smoothly at his company, so he decided to spend the afternoon wearing his Mayor's cap instead and attend to some town business. As he entered the office, he spotted Bill Avery sitting at the Mayor's desk.

"Bill," Henry said with a bit of a sigh, knowing this was another of Bill Avery's impromptu visits, to keep tabs on him and check the town's books.

"Henry," Bill acknowledged back, but this time with something stronger behind the simple word.

"I trust everything is in order," Henry said. Bill Avery had been checking the books for months and never found anything amiss. Just as Henry had devised it to be.

"Henry, did you think you'd get away with it?" Bill asked, surprising Henry with the question. He couldn't know. He couldn't.

"Away with what?" Henry feigned ignorance.

"You know, I have to admit it, you had me going," Bill went off on a tangent. "All this time, I was looking for money being siphoned _out _of the town, not _into _it," Bill said, admitting in all his careful checking of the books he had not entertained this possibility.

"I don't know what you're talking about," Henry said but with a sinking feeling.

"No?" Bill countered, challengingly, and flipped open the current year's ledger. "Look," he pointed to an entry. "Seventy-five dollars raised at the annual community drive we held last month." Bill flipped open another ledger beside the first, last year's ledger. "Guess how much we raised last year? Seven! Seven dollars, Henry. Are you trying to tell me we raised ten times more money this year than last?" Bill asked incredulously. It was why he hadn't noticed. Why the books looked fine, because the accounts were always flush. But he should have questioned it. Questioned why there was always funds for town improvements, like new roads and sidewalks, when it had always been so much harder to acquire funds in the past. But he hadn't thought to compare the books to other years, certainly not as far as funds coming in, he only did so now knowing that Henry was paying the widows and he wondered what other accounts he was inflating.

"That's just one example," Bill said of the example he'd given. "I could go on but I won't bore you with what you already know. I'll just say it. You've been padding the books, haven't you Henry?" Bill accused. "Basically giving the town money, just disguising it on paper," Bill summed up.

"So, I help out a little bit," Henry downplayed his contributions.

"A little bit!" Bill jumped on those words. "And the widows, Henry? Are you just helping a little bit there too?"

"What do you mean?" Henry's eyes actually widened at that. So what if Bill found out he was padding the town's books, donating a bit of money. Not such a big deal. But the widows...

"Clara Stanton came to me, Henry," Bill was eyeing Henry intently. "She wrote Pacific to change to her married name and guess what? They told her her benefits ended six months ago! All the widows benefits did! But they keep on getting them. And from who? From Pacific Northern Mining, a subsidiary of none other than Gowen Petroleum Enterprises!" Bill practically shouted. There, it was all out in the open. Let Henry try to deny it now.

Henry was shaking his head. Clara? It was little Clara that led to the discovery of his ruse? Of all people he would never have thought it would be her to dismantle his carefully laid out plans.

"My only question is how did you intercept the letters, Henry? The letters informing the widows the benefits were ending. How did you..." Bill stopped with a sudden realization. "Unless the mining company asked you to individually deliver them? Is that it, Henry? Was that to be your final act as manager? To inform the widows the company was stopping payment to them?" Bill asked, everything becoming a bit clearer.

"I couldn't do it, Bill. I couldn't give them those letters," Henry finally admitted, shaking his head.

"It won't work, Henry," all the bluster had gone out of Bill and his tone had turned almost gentle.

"What won't work?" Henry asked.

"You can't buy the town's forgiveness, Henry," Bill said simply. Bill knew it, and Henry should too.

"I'm not trying to buy their forgiveness!" Henry hotly refuted the claim. Hadn't he tried to do all this secretly, so that no one would find out? The last thing he wanted was for them to know, for anyone to know.

"Then what? What are you doing?" Bill asked. Why had he gone to such great lengths to see the widows' benefits continued uninterrupted?

Henry sighed, somehow knowing Bill would not let it rest, that he would not rest until he knew. Henry headed over to a small table, upon which a dictionary lay permanently open to a particular page. A page to remind Henry each and every day of his mission. "I'm doing it because of that," Henry pointed to an entry, as Bill came over to look down and read what he pointed to. The dictionary entry read:

**res-ti-tu-tion**

1\. the restoration of something lost or stolen to its proper owner

2\. recompense for injury or loss.

After reading it, Bill looked up to meet Henry's eyes. "I can't ever give them back the first one, Bill," Henry explained, swallowing hard. He could never bring their loved ones back. "But maybe...maybe the second one..." he trailed off the meaning. That one he could at least try.

"Henry, it's usually the courts that decide restitution...you can't..." Bill stopped. There was no point telling him he couldn't, because he was. Or trying to.

"Bill," Henry began, about to name an important request. "Bill, will you let me do this?" he asked, asking for his silence.

"I don't know, Henry," Bill replied honestly. It was perhaps a good thing Henry was doing, but it was still a lie, and rode in that grey area between right and wrong and Bill didn't know what to say really.

"Please," Henry beseeched.

Some part of Bill took pity and he nodded. "Okay. For now."


	19. Chapter 19

This is for the commenter who said she checks daily for new chapters! That is so kind of you! This is actually just part of a longer chapter, this is what I have done so far, so I'm posting it early. Hope you enjoy!

x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x

Lucas Bouchard headed towards the Mountie office late one afternoon, musing that what he was about to do went against his nature. Goodness knew he had no like or trust of the law or lawmen, but at times, like this one, they were a necessary evil. And he had to admit, for a lawman Nathan Grant was at least tolerable. Okay, more than tolerable, he grudgingly admitted.

"Lucas!" Nathan Grant stood up from his desk at the sight of the saloon owner entering his office. Knowing this was an unusual occurrence, that the two men usually avoided each other as much as possible, Nathan quickly asked, "Is everything alright?"

"I'm not sure," Lucas admitted truthfully.

"Why's that?" Nathan invited him to divulge more.

"A couple of strangers, three of them, at the saloon, I have a bad feeling about them," he listed cryptically.

"In what way?" Nathan asked.

"Well, besides the fact they're kind of rough looking, they asked for a private room in the back. I don't think they want to be seen. They've been playing poker, high stakes, and drinking, and I overheard one of them..." Lucas trailed off.

"Overheard what?" Nathan prodded.

"One of them said something about taking guns over the High Ridge pass," Lucas informed him.

Nathan let out his breath on a long sigh. Gun runners, by the sounds of it. He strode quickly to his filing cabinet and pulled out a batch of pages, wanted lists. He spread them out on the desk in front of Lucas and asked, "Any of them look like these?" he asked.

Lucas was already nodding. "That one for sure," he said, pointing. "Those two, maybe, it's hard to tell, they're a bit rough, unshaven," he explained his uncertainty. But the one positive identification was enough for Nathan.

"They wearing guns?" he asked.

"They were, but I told them to take them off in the saloon, like I do for everyone," Lucas supplied.

Nathan was nodding. "Good," he said, then it was best he apprehended them here when they weren't wearing guns, instead of letting them leave town and following them. "They're in the back room?" Nathan was already formulating a plan in his mind. "Are there many other people in the saloon? Can you get them to leave?" he asked.

"Why? What are you going to do?" Lucas asked in surprise. Was Nathan going to confront the men by himself? "Shouldn't you wait for Bill?" he said, mentioning Bill Avery, former sheriff who still acted as a lawman.

"No, Bill's out of town, I'll have to take care of this on my own," Nathan said.

"But there's just one of you and three of them-" Lucas reminded him.

Nathan almost smiled. "It's my job, Lucas," he told him.

"That's a heckuva job," Lucas remarked dryly. "I'm a gambler and even I don't like those odds," he noted.

"Didn't you know? One Mountie is worth three men," Nathan almost smirked as he said it, shaking his head he was actually bantering with Lucas at such a serious moment. "Anyway," he said, getting things back on track, "can you clear the saloon and maybe pull the shade down to signal when it's clear and I'll come then," he said, not wanting to give the three gun runners any warning of his visit.

"I guess I..." Lucas started to reply before stopping suddenly and turning towards the door. Elizabeth Thornton had arrived, her young son Little Jack in her arms, riding on one hip.

"Nathan, I just wanted..." she started to say, then stopped herself. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to interrupt," she said, realizing she had interrupted the two men.

"No, Elizabeth, it's fine. What did you want?" Nathan asked, shooting Lucas a quick look to silence him on what they'd been discussing.

"I just wanted to know if Allie was coming to my house tonight, but I see you have no prisoners," she said, eyeing the empty jail cells, "so I guess the answer is no?"

Nathan came around his desk to move close to Elizabeth, and spoke to her in a low voice. "Elizabeth, can you take Allie home with you, please?"

"But why?..." Elizabeth started to ask, seeing that he didn't have prisoners, then realizing by his question that perhaps he expected to have prisoners. Her eyes widened just a tad.

"It's okay," Nathan replied at her sudden look of alarm, his eyes telegraphing reassurance as he reached a hand to gently touch her elbow. "Please, just take the children home," he repeated, now including Little Jack in the request, both of them not wondering how easily it came to him to refer to Little Jack and Allie as the children, as if they belonged together.

"Alright," Elizabeth agreed solemnly, reading his expression and understanding she needed to get the children away from whatever was about to happen. Her duty assigned, she turned quickly from the room as Nathan watched her retreating figure before he snapped back to Lucas.

"So. Clear the saloon. Shade down when ready," he repeated the plan.

"Alright," Lucas shrugged with a sigh, wondering how all this was going to turn out. But his duty now assigned too, he headed out the door to comply.

As he entered the saloon and scanned the room, Lucas immediately zeroed in on the one person he most wanted out of there. If there was to be any kind of trouble, he wanted her safe.

Lucas moved to her and reached over to pluck the dart from Fiona Miller's hand just as she was about to throw it. "Lucas!" she cried, mildly outraged as she turned to look at him.

"Don't you think you've had enough darts for one day?" Lucas lamely asked. "I think you'd better go home now," he said.

"Lucas? What? Why?" Fiona asked in confusion. He was actually sending her home, asking her to leave?

"Go home, Fiona," he said, a bit more forcefully. Instead of the hurt in her eyes he'd gotten last time at his faux pas, this time Fiona's eyes lit with anger.

"Fine!" she said, then turned and angrily stormed off. Lucas sighed. There'd be heck to pay tomorrow, she'd be angry with him and he'd have to work hard all over again to soothe her feelings, but he didn't care about that right now. He just wanted her safe and out of the way.

It was surprisingly easy to clear the rest of the saloon, first informing some of the diners they were out of this dish or that, but the real clincher came when he announced they'd run out of beer. Never did a room empty faster. At the last customer's departure, Lucas headed to the front window and pulled down the shade. It was only a moment or two later that Nathan appeared at the door.

"Are they still in the back room?" Nathan asked quietly just inside the door.

"Yes, but it's locked...they made me lock it earlier. I have the key," Lucas offered, but Nathan was already shaking his head no, there'd be no time for a key.

"Alright, I've got this, you go now too," Nathan informed Lucas, as he sidled past him. Lucas watched as Nathan drew his weapon and stealthily approached the back room.

Nathan eyed the closed door for just a second, weapon in hand, before he reared back then throttled a shoulder full force at the door, knocking it open and off its hinges. He directed his gun at the two surprised occupants inside, before ordering, "Mounted police! Hands in the air!"

Just then, the third man, who'd left the room earlier to use the outhouse in back, crept silently up to the room, a whisky bottle in his hand.

Not far away, Lucas saw the unfolding drama. He hadn't left when the Mountie instructed him too, more out of morbid fascination of what might happen than anything, but had instead moved closer to the scene, close enough to see the unfolding situation.. Quickly moving forward the last few steps, he grabbed saloon chair and whacked it over the head of the third man, knocking him unconscious to the floor and thwarting any attempt to harm the constable.

Nathan's head turned in surprise at the noise behind him, his gun still directed forward on his outstretched arms. His eyes quickly took in the situation, before he focused back on the two criminals in front of him.

"I thought I told you to leave," he chastised Lucas, as he removed handcuffs from his belt and made to cuff the two men, rounding them up, readying to march them to jail.

"You should probably know I don't take orders very well," Lucas dryly informed him, as Nathan pushed the two men ahead of him out of the room, stepping over the third man on the floor on their way out. "What should I do with him?" Lucas asked, eyeing the prone man on his floor.

"Tie him up, and I'll be back to collect him in a few minutes," Nathan instructed, as Lucas went to retrieve some rope.

It was only a few minutes later that Nathan returned, the other two men safely behind bars. The third man was just now recovering consciousness and Nathan dragged him groggily to his feet.

"You know Lucas, it's against Mountie rules for civilians to interfere in criminal matters," he chided.

"And, let me say again, I've never been good at following rules," Lucas dryly noted.

Nathan shook his head, knowing it was a lost battle, but how could he cite rules and procedures when Lucas had prevented a very bad situation from occurring. "Well, thank you just the same," Nathan finally said.

"For what?" Lucas asked, as if it weren't obvious.

"For having my back," Nathan replied, something tugging at the corner of his mouth, possibly a smile. It seemed like it wasn't that long ago those words were also said between the two men, only in reverse.

"Anytime, constable. But you do know you're paying for that door you broke down, right?" Lucas asked, something mischievous in his tone.

Nathan actually smiled this time. "I'll owe you," he threw the answer over his shoulder as he dragged the third criminal out of the room.


	20. Chapter 20

Inside her small home, Elizabeth Thornton was setting the table for dinner. Nearby, Allie was giving Little Jack a piggy back ride, much to the delight of the squealing child. Elizabeth smiled briefly at the scene, before setting some plates on the table. She was not going to let it worry her, she decided. She was not going to let the exchange earlier that day with Nathan, when he'd told her to take the children home, worry her. He was just taking care of Mountie business and she would hear about it later, good or bad, she was sure. So there was no use worrying.

"Elizabeth, you'll never guess!" Rosemary Coulter burst into the room to announce. "I just got off the phone with Lee and there was a big bust up at the saloon! Nathan arrested three gun runners, can you imagine! Lee says there was quite a brawl, busted chairs and doors everywhere!" Rosemary was not above embellishing some of the details for effect.

Elizabeth cast a startled look at Rosemary, then quickly looked to Allie, who was setting Little Jack on to the floor.

"Uncle Nathan was in a bust up at the saloon?" Allie asked, her eyes wide with worry. Suddenly needing to know he was okay, Allie took off, running out of the open door that Rosemary had just entered.

"Oh, Elizabeth! I'm so sorry!" Rosemary cried, placing a hand to her mouth, not realizing the effect her words would have on the child, not realizing her faux pas until it was too late.

"It's okay, can you watch Little Jack?" Elizabeth called over her shoulder, already racing out the door after Allie. She raced after Allie who ran toward town, but Elizabeth had no hope of catching the agile child and Allie reached the jail house before she did.

Nathan Grant, standing inside the Mountie office, the three gun runners locked in cells, turned when the jail house door suddenly banged open. Allie stood on the threshold, panting and out of breath and looking almost wild but not moving as she just stood there and looked at him.

"Allie!" he exclaimed in surprise to see her, especially in such a state.

It was then that Allie ran to him and threw her arms around his trunk, squeezing tight, like she would never let go.

Elizabeth appeared in the doorway, breathless as well, coming up short at the scene of Allie fiercely hugging her uncle, his expression still one of startled surprise. Nathan looked over to meet Elizabeth's eyes and she mouthed the words "I'm sorry" to him, an apology in her expression, as he suddenly understood Allie had heard about the take down at the saloon.

Nathan pried Allie away from him and crouched down to speak with her, before realizing where they were, mere feet away from the prying eyes of the prisoners, so he rose again and took her hand, leading them out of the room. As they approached her at the door, Elizabeth likewise retreated onto the verandah. Nathan closed the door behind him, then crouched once more in front of Allie as Elizabeth stood nearby.

"Allie, I'm alright," Nathan told her. "Not a scratch on me, you can see that," he said, his tone reassuring.

Allie nodded at the truth. She could see he was alright. She could see that now. But she hadn't known that when she was running to town just minutes earlier, and the worry was still fresh in her eyes. "They said you were in a bust up," Allie related to him. "I thought maybe you got hurt," she explained her worry.

"I made an arrest at the saloon, Allie, but I didn't get hurt," Nathan said, shaking his head negatively to reinforce his statement. "Okay? Do you understand? Everything is alright," Nathan emphasized reassuringly.

"Okay," Allie said, her worry finally abating.

"Come here," Nathan said, and drew Allie into his arms, just holding her a moment, a final act of reassurance. As he held Allie, Nathan looked up from his crouched position and met Elizabeth's eyes, surprised to read something there as well, before it was quickly masked. Nathan was surprised to realize he recognized it because he'd just seen the same look in his niece's eyes. Was Elizabeth worried too? Had she been worried about him?

Not given long to dwell on it, Nathan pulled back from his hug with Allie and ran a thumb along her face, a slight teasing smile coming to his own. "Now, if you really want to help me out," he began with a hopeful glint in his eye, "maybe you could bring me a plate of dinner," he suggested lightly to Allie, trying to change to evening's focus to something lighter and less troublesome.

"Ohh, I'm making ham and scalloped potatoes tonight," Elizabeth immediately chimed in. "Should we bring him a plate, Allie?" she asked conspiratorially, joining in on the game, on the distraction from the recent drama.

As Allie looked back at Elizabeth to nod vigorously, Elizabeth stretched an arm out, inviting Allie to take her hand. As Allie took Elizabeth's hand, Nathan rose to his feet, watching the pair begin their walk back to the rowhouse. Suddenly Elizabeth looked over her shoulder to look back at Nathan with a pleased smile, a suggestion that they had somehow weathered a storm together and emerged safely on the other side.

Nathan returned her smile, he knew it too.


	21. Chapter 21

Elizabeth sat in the front pew of the empty schoolhouse a few days later, alone at the end of the Friday schoolday, alone before she had to resume her duties as mother and return home to Little Jack. But for now, she had these few moments, here. It was one of the few places she could be by herself and just think. And she needed to think right now. And she needed to do it here in the place that Jack built.

She could scarcely believe that in a few short months it would two years since he'd been gone. How was that possible? And Little Jack...well, time was flying by there too. He was already over a year old, beginning to walk and talk. Each day was becoming more hopeful than the last as small hopes for the future blossomed in unexpected places. In Little Jack's smile, in a student's success, even in a warm sunny day. And in that other way too. The one she could no longer ignore.

Because as much as she'd promised herself not to ever care for another Mountie, Elizabeth knew that it had happened anyway. It had simply crept up on her, without her inviting it or even being aware it was happening. But she knew it now. When Allie had run to the jail, worried about Nathan, and Elizabeth had run after her, part of the impetus had been her own worry for him. So she cared, but what did she do now? Maybe nothing, she thought. She was a widow with a young child, she was no longer a naive girl, free from responsibilities, free from past claims on her heart.

"Elizabeth!" Elizabeth turned at the voice. It was Clara Stanton, walking up the aisle of the schoolhouse with gauzy fabric in her arms. Oh, Elizabeth realized. Clara was here to decorate for the wedding. For her wedding, on Sunday, in two days time.

"Oh Clara," Elizabeth said, making to rise. "I"ll get out of your way," she said, but Clara batted a hand at her, indicating that Elizabeth should sit again.

"No, no," Clara said. "I've got some people coming to help me, and there's no sense starting without them," she explained as she took a seat in the pew just across the aisle from Elizabeth, giving every indication of waiting for them.

There was a short, almost awkward pause before Elizabeth turned to her. "You must be so excited for Sunday, Clara," she said.

"Excited...and nervous!" Clara replied wryly with the truth.

"You and Jesse are such a great couple," Elizabeth said.

"I think so," Clara said with a hint of pride in her voice. It'd been a hard battle to get to this day, their wedding day, and Clara was proud that she and Jesse had made it, had survived all the obstacles in their path.

Another short pause, and Clara stole a glance at Elizabeth. Strange that she should be in here at the end of the day, just sitting quietly in a pew. "Elizabeth? Is there something on your mind?" she asked, perhaps a bit intuitively, certainly with great sensitivity.

Elizabeth sighed. It seemed a bit providential that Clara of all people should appear just when she'd come to think through things. For of all the widows in Hope Valley, it was Clara that Elizabeth felt the most kinship with. They were the young widows, the one's who had lost their husbands just weeks into marriage.

"Clara, this is a happy time for you. I don't want to..." Elizabeth trailed off, not wanting to bother her with her concerns. "I don't want to bring up things from the past," she finally said.

"You mean about Peter?" Clara asked, with blindingly accurate clarity. At Elizabeth's wide eyed look of shock, Clara continued, "It's okay, Elizabeth. It doesn't hurt to talk about him anymore. What do you want to know?"

"It's just...it's just...sometimes I find it hard to be a widow. I mean, I barely got to be a wife," Elizabeth began, to Clara's nods of understanding. Clara knew, Clara knew what that was like. "Sometimes I don't know what to do, or say, or how to act. I don't know what's right, what's proper or acceptable. Sometimes I feel like there's a world of judgement on me and I feel like I'm going to take a wrong step."

"Elizabeth, I'm not judging you," Clara was quick to reassure her. "And neither is anyone who cares about you. The only people judging you are people who don't know you or don't care about you. And should their opinion really matter?" Clara asked logically.

Clara was right, she knew. She was younger than Elizabeth but seemed far, far wiser. "After Peter died, and you met Jesse, how did you know it was right? How did you know it was time to move on?" Elizabeth asked.

"Well," Clara smiled. "I didn't really go 'hey I need a man'," she joked, as Elizabeth smiled, the bit of humour relieving some of the seriousness of the moment. "It just sort of happened naturally. I didn't force anything, but I didn't stop it either," she said.

"But didn't you feel..." Elizabeth trailed off, not knowing how to say it, to put it into words, the words were too harsh.

"Didn't I feel what? Like I was betraying Peter?" Clara, once again so perceptive. Elizabeth turned fully to her now, her eyes wide in shock. How could she have known? How could she have known that was her question?

"It's okay, Elizabeth," Clara was saying. "I know, because I've been there. Anyone who has lost a love and loves again has been there," she said. Clara sighed, thinking how to convey what she wanted to say. "It's kind of like this," she finally said. "Elizabeth, who taught you to love? Who taught you how beautiful love is?" she asked.

"Jack did," Elizabeth's reply was immediate.

Clara nodded. "And you're a teacher. How would you feel if a student of yours didn't use what you'd taught them?"

"I wouldn't like it," Elizabeth admitted, beginning to catch a glimmer of understanding.

"So, Jack has been your teacher and you aren't betraying him by wanting to love again. You're honouring him, you're honouring what he's taught you," Clara summed it up.

Tears came to Elizabeth's eyes and she choked back a sob with something more than relief, more than gratitude for this young woman's kind words, her understanding and above all her salve to a hurting heart. As she brushed the tears from her eyes Elizabeth spoke the simple words of gratitude, simple but profound.

"Thank you, Clara."


	22. Chapter 22

Nathan Grant sat in his office a few days later, finally alone. The gun runners he'd arrested days earlier had finally been picked up and carted off to Cape Fullerton by officers from the Mountie regiment, and Nathan's duty in overseeing them had finally concluded. Now he could finally think. Not just of the past few days, but of the past few months. About her. About Elizabeth.

Because it still came to him. The look he'd seen in her eyes the night she'd come to the jail with Allie. Allie had been worried about him, about his safety, but so had she. He was certain of it. Certain that he saw the same look of concern in her eyes that Allie had shown.

Part of him was hopeful at the observation. Part of him rationalized it. She was just kind and caring, like she was for everyone. Of course she would be concerned about him, it seemed like their lives had become intertwined of late, she was his niece's teacher and provided care to her on the nights he had to remain at the jail. So they saw a lot of each other, and perhaps that familiarity had bred a sort of attachment.

But still, there was that look. He'd once thought maybe she had preferred Lucas, the saloon owner. After all, she had asked him to dance all those many months ago, but Nathan had seen that nothing had come of that. In fact, he was perceptive enough to see that Lucas had eyes for Fiona Miller, so it didn't appear that Elizabeth's heart was elsewhere engaged. Well, except for the fact she was a widow and perhaps she was not inclined to get involved with anyone.

Nathan rubbed his jaw and sighed. He could go around like this all day if he wanted. He knew where his own heart lay but as for her? There really was only one way. One way to know if she truly cared for him and what she wanted. He would have to ask her. Even if a negative response jeopardized their friendship, he could no longer remain silent. He would have to ask her.

x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x

Elizabeth Thornton sat on the front stoop of her rowhouse snapping beans. It was one of the last warm days of Fall and she was taking advantage of it. Although it was warm she could smell Fall in the air, the scent of leaves no longer green and lush, but dried and clinging to branches ready to catapult them to the ground. There was the hint of more blustery days to come, but for now Elizabeth reveled in all the scents and sensations as she snapped beans, breaking each one twice before plunking them into the bowl beside her.

Her mind was on yesterday's event at the church. Clara and Jesse's wedding. Oh, it had been so beautiful, as all weddings were, but this one in particular. So beautiful and romantic, the joining of two lives, a forever commitment, witnessed before a gathering of family and friends. Something panged in Elizabeth's heart at both the beauty and the promise for the future. Only Abigail Stanton's absence was the slight mar, Clara's mother-in-law from her earlier marriage, but Abigail could not get away, could not leave her mother to make the journey and had been unable to attend. But in all other respects it had been a beautiful day. Elizabeth sighed as she relived parts of the day in her mind.

Lost as she was in her thoughts, Elizabeth didn't notice the approaching Mountie until he was almost upon her.

"Nathan!" Elizabeth looked up to greet him, somewhat in surprise. "I thought you'd be at the jail still, with the prisoners," she said.

Nathan Grant took off his Mountie hat an approached Elizabeth and stood before her, hat in hand. "No, they were picked up," he partially explained his presence.

"Oh, well Allie's around somewhere," she said, thinking he'd come to collect his niece now that he no longer had to remain at the jail. "I think she's out climbing trees...," Elizabeth trailed off, naming one of Allie's favourite activities as she scanned the far off trees looking for her.

"No, no, it's fine, that can wait," he said. Elizabeth looked at him and saw it then. Oh, she saw it now. He had something on his mind, she could tell. As she always could from reading his face. "Would you like to sit down, Nathan?" she invited, gesturing to the spot next to her, on the other side of the bowl of beans.

Nathan nodded, but didn't immediately move to sit. He merely studied the scene for a moment. How was it possible, he wondered? How was it possible for one woman to be so beautiful? Not just her, but the whole scene. Little Jack was behind her on the porch, toddling around as he played with various toys, safely ensconced inside the porch railing. Elizabeth sat on the top step, wearing a crisp apron, one strap falling loosely off her shoulder. Her hair was down, and the gentle breeze was floating strands of it in the air around her face. And her face, flushed from activity and fresh air, its contours and shape now so familiar to him, seemed like it glowed with a softness and a goodness unmatched in his eyes. The beauty, her beauty, for Nathan had no doubt wherein lay the heart of the beautiful scene, stirred such pangs inside him that it actually hurt a little to look upon. Finally, Nathan moved, climbing the few steps of the porch, then turning to sit next to her. He spun his hat between his knees a turn or two, then set it on the porch behind him.

Elizabeth continued snapping beans, but didn't speak. There was a time she would have prodded him, asked leading questions to get him to divulge what was on his mind. But she knew now that wasn't necessary. That he would speak when the time was right for him.

As Nathan thought how to best form his words, his eyes fell on the bowl of unsnapped beans beside him and he idly picked a bean and began snapping it alongside Elizabeth. Elizabeth smiled, appreciating the help, but also knowing he was looking for the words for what he wanted to say.

"Elizabeth," Nathan finally began.

"Hmm," Elizabeth replied.

"Elizabeth, we've known each other for some time now," he said. About 8 months, he mentally calculated the time but didn't name it. "And in that time, I've come to admire and respect you greatly," Nathan complimented.

Elizabeth paused mid-snap, suddenly with an inkling of where this might be going as she listened intently to his words.

"And so I was wondering. If you were agreeable, that is. I was wondering if I might call on you. You know, socially. Regular-like," Nathan winced, knowing he was putting it badly, putting it badly when it meant to much to him.

"Well, Nathan," Elizabeth began her reply, giving no indication she thought his expression awkward or untoward. _Always do what you are afraid to do,_ she remembered the Emerson quote Nathan had carved for her. She would have liked to follow its guidance, especially now, but as she looked to her heart for her answer she saw no fear there. Only a calmness, a certainty of rightness, and the flickering of renewed lightness, of hope maybe. "Well, Nathan, I think I would like that," she finally said. "Only...," she began.

"Only what?" he asked.

"Only, can we take it slow?" she asked, knowing this was a big step for her.

"Of course!" Nathan immediately agreed, without hesitation. "I'm good at slow," he informed her, and Elizabeth smiled. Yes, he was, she thought. And some other adjectives, like calm, capable, methodical. All attributes that seemed very, very welcoming to her.

"Okay, alright," she repeated her agreement.

Nathan let out a long deep sigh at her answer, and gave a slight nod. He reached around him for his hat, and settled it back on his head. His mission complete and successful, he got up and descended the steps, only getting a few paces before Elizabeth called out to him.

"Nathan!" Elizabeth exclaimed. Was that it? His task complete, was he simply going to leave? As Nathan turned back to look quizzically at her, Elizabeth fisted a hand on her hip in mock sternness and gestured to the bowl of beans beside her with the other, her flat upturned palm a rebuke to his behaviour. "At least help me finish the beans!" she admonished in mock severity.

A smile tugged at the corner of Nathan's mouth. "Yes, Ma'am," he replied and dutifully returned to the chore.

With Nathan once again beside her, the pair eyed each other, smiles pulling at both their mouths, a shared joke, and a shared joy, between them.


	23. Chapter 23

Fiona Miller tried on one dress after another, none of them satisfying her completely. She didn't know why she was even going to this. Why Lucas had invited her to dinner. Oh, she supposed he felt a bit guilty. Just as they'd resolved their one conflict, he'd been brusque with her again, ordering her out of the saloon the other night. But she understood the reason now. After the arrest of the gun runners, she understood the reason. He had cleared out the saloon, her and everyone else. So she saw no reason he felt the need to invite her to dinner to make amends. There were no amends to make.

Fiona took one last look in the mirror. Oh well. Best to get it over with and be done with it, she thought. And she supposed this dress was as good as any other. Just because it was one of her favourites didn't mean anything, she thought, fine lace overlaying the dress's light blue silky fabric as it skimmed down her body, stopping six inches above her ankles.

Fiona headed out of the door of her room and down the side stairs of the dress shop. It was almost dark out, but not yet completely. Lucas had told her to come to the saloon at 9pm and it was 5 minutes to that when she pushed on the saloon door, surprised it didn't move, that it was locked. There was still light coming from the windows, but she noticed the absence of the usual boisterous chatter from inside. Shrugging over why that would be, she instead rapped lightly on the door.

The door almost immediately opened and Lucas stood on the other side, a ready smile on his face. He was dressed as he usually was, a fitted suit with vest, a smart cravat at his neck. But perhaps the cut of cloth was a little finer, the silk of the tie a little richer. "Fiona, welcome!" he said, opening the door wider to admit her.

As Fiona moved past him into the room, she sucked in her breath a little. The room had no other customers and in the middle was a clothed table decked out in fine silverware and china and lit by candlelight. Okay, she was not expecting this. Fiona looked up to meet Lucas' eyes, surprise in her own. Lucas read her surprise and perhaps her delight and was pleased. He had hoped to make an impression and so far so good.

"But where is everyone else?" Fiona asked. It was only 9pm, too early for the saloon to be closed.

"Oh, it wasn't busy, and I thought this was a better use of the room tonight," Lucas casually remarked. But it really hadn't been so casual, closing early to the disgruntled comments of his regular customers. He'd even had to lock the doors to prevent anyone but Fiona coming in.

As Fiona neared the table, she peered down at some of the dishes already laid out, exclaiming over one French delicacy and then another as she named them.

"Oh, you've had them before," Lucas said, a tad disappointed. He had hoped to impress her with his worldliness and sophistication, but it seemed Fiona was displaying quite a familiarity with fine cuisine already.

"Yes, of course," Fiona said, looking up to meet his eyes. Seeing his slight disappointment she quickly amended, "But I haven't had them in a long time and I know I'm going to enjoy them!"

Lucas forced a smile at her attempt to assuage him, before he moved around her and held out a chair. As Fiona moved to sit down, Lucas glanced back towards the kitchen and nodded, the signal to the chef to bring the rest of their dinner.

Lucas sat opposite Fiona and reached for his napkin, just as an apronned server wheeled in the dinner cart. Lucas waited as they were served their plates, and the server retreated back to the kitchen.

"Well, Fiona, I trust you are well this evening? You look...l-lovely," he said, surprised at his own stammer. This was not like him, he was usually very smooth with compliments to women.

"Yes, I'm well, thank you Lucas. And yourself?" she asked, playing his words over in her mind. Had he said she was lovely? It was hard to know for sure, the word was a bit garbled. He couldn't have said that, could he?

"Tres bien, merci beaucoup," Lucas tried a little French, always an impressive move with the ladies, that is, until Fiona fired back a response in equally impressive French. Ah yes, he'd forgotten she spoke French.

"That's quite a vocabulary you have there," Lucas said, back in English. "Where did you learn French?" he inquired.

"In Paris," Fiona replied. "I lived there for 2 years."

"Ah." Now Lucas felt out of his depth. She was likely more world travelled than he.

But Fiona was biting her lip, for some reason not wanting Lucas to have the wrong idea. That she was something more than she was. She didn't know why but she sensed a kinship with him, and that maybe she didn't have to try so hard fronting a facade.

"It's not what you think," Fiona said, referring to her stay in Paris. "I was a nanny. I was a nanny to a rich family," she explained.

"Oh," Lucas absorbed this information, a moment where she had shared a little more of herself than she'd recently shared with anyone.

"And you, Lucas? Where did you learn French? It's...it's not...," Fiona pondered on it. He spoke good French but it wasn't Parisian, it was more a dialect. Where else would he have learned? "New Orleans!" she spoke the place name out loud when it came to her.

"Touche!" Lucas replied with a smile.

"Is that where you're from?" Fiona asked.

"I've spent time there," he said evasively. He saw the slight disappointment in Fiona's eyes at his evasive answer, and knowing she had shared a bit about herself, he elaborated in kind. "When I was younger I lived there but my Father and I moved around a lot," he said.

Fiona was nodding at him now, happy he had disclosed more about himself. "Where did you move around to?" she asked.

"Oh, all over the country," Lucas said. "By the time I was 15 I'd been across the country and back many times," he said.

Fiona looked suitably impressed, but for some reason that did not please Lucas. He did not want to impress her falsely, so he used the same sentence she had. "It's not what you think," he said. At Fiona's inquiring look, he added, "It was just my Dad and I...and we travelled a lot, but...," Lucas hesitated, then decided just to plough on. "It was mostly by rail, we rode the rails Fiona," he admitted. "But not as paying customers," he said pointedly, not knowing if that information would shock her or lessen him in her eyes.

But Fiona was merely nodding in understanding. "You rode the rails with your Dad," she repeated. "How did you...how did he...how did you making a living?" she wondered.

"We travelled town to town, my Dad was a card player, a gambler I guess, but more a card player. Doing tricks, entertaining. We'd get by for a while, but then usually the law would come around and chase us on to the next town," Lucas informed her, not understanding why he was disclosing all this. Things he'd never told anyone about. Maybe it was because she had divulged a bit of her own story that had started him with his own. Or maybe it was her open, receptive countenance that just made it all so easy.

"That must have been hard," Fiona surmised. "Being chased by the law, and you were just a boy," she pieced it together.

"Well, let's just say the law and I have usually been on the outs," Lucas said, revealing more than he knew. If he held present day mistrust of the law, and lawmen, then surely his early roots were the explanation.

"How long did you travel like that, Lucas?" Fiona asked. Neither one of them were eating now, the food on their plates going untouched.

"With my Dad? Fifteen years. I had him for fifteen wonderful years," Lucas' smile was tender at the memories. He had loved his Father dearly and their adventures together. "After he passed, I just carried on, doing the only thing I knew: playing cards. But I was good at it, Fiona. I never cheated, but I was good at it," Lucas said.

"So...your Dad passed when you were fifteen," Fiona was piecing the information together. "And you've been on your own since then?" she asked.

At Lucas' nod, Fiona sucked in her breath. Kindred. They were kindred after all.

"Seventeen," Fiona suddenly said. At Lucas' startled look, she expanded. "I've been on my own since I was seventeen," she said. "My parents...influenza of '08. You remember? I lost both of them," she said.

"I'm sorry," Lucas said, and meant it.

"I'm sorry about your Dad," Fiona said in kind.

It was a while later, over dessert, that the conversation turned to Hope Valley. "But why did you come to Hope Valley, Lucas?" Fiona asked.

"I don't know, I guess I was just tired of moving around all the time," he said of his desire to put down roots in one place. "Do you know how I picked Hope Valley?" he asked.

"How?" asked Fiona.

"I put the names of all the saloons for sale up on a wall and threw a dart. It landed on Hope Valley," Lucas smirked at his audacity.

"No!" Fiona clasped her hands gleefully, her jaw dropped in awe, secretly thrilled at such a daring move.

"And what about you?" Lucas asked. "Why are you here in Hope Valley?"

"Well, after working as a nanny, I got a job with the telephone company in San Francisco. They seemed to think I had a mechanical aptitude," she said dryly and pointedly, knowing perhaps Lucas did not share that opinion after her botched attempts at installing his telephones.

Lucas smirked at her veiled reference. "And you do," he graciously allowed.

"Anyway, I worked there for a few years, but was sent here to Hope Valley to install the switchboard. And I've never gone back. There's something about this place..." she trailed off, not really sure what that was. Just that Hope Valley had some kind of appeal for her.

But Lucas was nodding. He understood that. He'd felt the same thing.

As the conversation died down, Lucas and Fiona merely regarded each other for a minute or two. It was perhaps not so odd it had taken until now to fully realize their kinship. Both were fun-loving, a bit flashy on the outside, but a bit more serious on the inside, with backgrounds of hardship and loss. And both had been on their own since relatively young ages. It really wasn't so surprising they had found each other in such a small town, that they had been drawn to each other, had recognized themselves in each other.

"Fiona, let me walk you home," Lucas suggested as the evening drew to a close and he rose to go around to her and pull out her chair.

"Lucas, you don't have to," Fiona said. This evening was enough, she thought. He didn't have to do that too.

"Please, it's dark and it's late. I'd feel better if you let me walk you home," Lucas insisted.

"Okay," Fiona agreed as she rose to her feet.

It was a short time later that they stood at the bottom of the outside stairs to Fiona's room above the dress shop. It was dark but some light still shone from nearby buildings and from the moonlight and they were still able to make out each other's faces and forms.

"Thank you, Lucas. Goodnight," Fiona said, her voice barely above a whisper.

"Goodnight, Fiona," Lucas replied, watching as she turned. Fiona stopped, then turned back to him.

"Lucas, I want to...I want to thank you for such a wonderful evening," she said. "It's something I'll never forget and I want you know that," she said. "You have been so kind, and you didn't have to do any of this," she said, still thinking his dinner invitation was simply to make amends for his earlier brusqueness and that it was merely a one-time occurrence.

"Fiona?" Lucas puzzled on her statement. She said it like he'd done this merely to be kind. That he'd given her a wonderful memory and that was it. End of story. Could she possibly believe that?

"Fiona, I didn't do this to be kind," he tried to set her straight.

"Then why?" Fiona asked, still not understanding, confusion in her eyes.

Lucas shook his head. So she did think he was only being kind. Didn't she know? Didn't she know her own appeal? Her own appeal...to him?

"Fiona, I didn't do this to be kind," he repeated, stepping close to her, so they were mere inches apart, Fiona tilting her head to look up at him, her face fortuitously presented to him. If she would not understand, he would have to show her what he meant. "I did it because...," Lucas let the words hang in the air and he lowered his head and touched her lips with his. He felt her surprise at his touch but he held his lips steady to hers, just lightly brushed across hers, then felt her soften under him. He pulled back from the brief kiss, and scanned her eyes for her reaction.

Fiona blinked up at Lucas. How lovely his kiss had been, unexpectedly tender and sweet. "That tickled," she said, saying the first words that came to her mind.

A smile tugged at the corner of Lucas's mouth. It maybe wasn't the reaction he was hoping for. "What tickled?" he asked indulgently.

"This." As Fiona reached a hand to lay alongside his bearded jaw, Lucas sucked in his breath, her touch affecting him almost more than the kiss had. But he tried to keep his words light.

"Fiona, surely you've felt a man's whiskers before?" he asked.

Fiona met his eyes, her own wide and luminous in the dark. At her slight negative shake of her head, a fire rose up inside Lucas and he reached to pull her close, his arms around her this time as he kissed her again, much more thoroughly, much more deeply.

Standing in Lucas Bouchard's arms as he kissed her in the moonlight, Fiona Miller had one final thought before she couldn't think anymore. That if she thought the evening was wonderful before, it was so much more wonderful right now.


	24. Chapter 24

"Rosemary, please don't make this out to be more than it is," Elizabeth pleaded. "At least, more than it is right now,"she amended.

"Of course I won't!" Rosemary replied. "Like when do I ever go overboard on things?" she asked, making a face, and then realizing the ludicrousness of her own statement. "Okay, I won't go overboard _this time_," she agreed, as Elizabeth breathed a sigh of relief.

They were in Rosemary's rowhouse having tea, the two women seated comfortably on the settee. They were planning a dinner party, a small get together of friends and Elizabeth was desperately hoping that Rosemary could curb her enthusiasm at the news that Elizabeth would like her to invite Nathan as the fourth to the dinner. As Elizabeth and Nathan were beginning the first few tentative steps to getting to know each other better, the last thing she needed was Rosemary Coulter's overzealous enthusiasm about the situation. At even the slightest hint of romance for anyone anywhere, Rosemary was known to start planning weddings and it was not something Elizabeth was remotely ready to contemplate.

As for the dinner party with Rosemary and Lee, Elizabeth felt it would be to a good introduction to this new situation between her and Nathan. For now, letting things progress in a group setting. Groups were good, Elizabeth thought. Plus it would be a chance for Nathan to also get to know two of her dearest friends better. So it was beneficial all around, Elizabeth decided.

"So..." Rosemary's head was already spinning with details. "Thursday at 8 good for you two?" she asked, already fixing the pair together as a couple in her mind.

Elizabeth sighed. Sometimes Rosemary was just so...Rosemary. "Thursday at 8 is good for _me,_" Elizabeth said, asserting her singleness. "As for Nathan, you'll have to check with him," she said pointedly.

"Yes, I will do that," Rosemary smiled, happy with the task. Happy indeed.

x=x=x=x=x=x=x=x

Nathan Grant nervously knocked at Lee and Rosemary Coulter's door that Thursday night promptly at 8 o'clock. He was nervous, but determined. He was dressed in his civilian clothes, not too formal, just a jacket over a crisp white shirt, but no tie. In his hand he held a small bouquet of flowers.

The door opened and Lee greeted him. "Nathan, come on in," he invited, gesturing with his arm, with a hint of reassurance in his voice after immediately reading something of Nathan's discomfort. Lee knew how these kinds of events were for guys, at least until they got used to them. Dinner parties were not the natural domain of men, for women, yes, but not for men.

"Come on in," he repeated, as he stood back to allow Nathan to enter.

"Thank you," Nathan said as he entered, his eyes immediately going to Elizabeth as she stood inside the room, helping Rosemary to set the table. Their eyes met and they exchanged small smiles.

"Oh, Constable Grant! Nathan!" Rosemary corrected her own greeting to the more familiar. "As Lee said, come on in!" she invited enthusiastically, walking towards him and waving her arms in a welcoming gesture. "Oh, I see you brought Elizabeth some flowers!" she said delightedly, noting the bouquet in his fist and knowing nothing said romance like flowers.

"No, ma'am," Nathan was quick to correct. "The flowers are for you," he said and held them out to her. He'd brought flowers to the evening's hostess, thinking that was the appropriate thing to do.

"Oh," said Rosemary, a bit deflated, her hopes of high romance dashed, before she perked almost immediately. "Thank you, I'll put them in some water," she said, taking the bouquet to turn and do just that.

As Rosemary left to fulfill her task, Elizabeth looked to Nathan with something like gratitude in her eyes. She wouldn't have liked flowers just yet, especially not so obviously in front of the others, it would have been awkward for her. The fact that perhaps Nathan had understood that pleased her greatly and she rewarded him with a smile sent his way.

The evening progressed in much the same way, the two women preparing the dinner and fixing the table, while the two men stood in the living room, quietly sipping the elderberry punch Rosemary had made. The men carried on a fragmented conversation, small questions and answers about work, followed by long companionable silences. The women, however, carried on non-stop chatter about almost everything under the sun. The new fashions, an amusing anecdote about a student, the muddy state of the Hope Valley roads and something really needed to be done there as coming home with 2 inches of mud on their shoes was not acceptable, who was entering the pie eating contest, who was ill and what colour did Elizabeth think Rosemary's new curtains should be.

Finally noticing the men weren't participating in their conversation, Rosemary looked up from the glass she was putting on the table. "You don't say very much, do you, Constable?" she asked, addressing her complaint to the Mountie.

Nathan looked back at her and in all innocence in observing the women converse, he replied, "It seems like you two are doing well enough without me."

At his words, both Rosemary and Elizabeth froze in mid-action of setting the table, Rosemary about to place another glass on the table and Elizabeth with an armful of napkins. Both women shot Nathan identical looks of outrage, their mouths agape, astonished and affronted.

"No, no, no, no, no," Lee Coulter rapid-fired the words, almost smacking his forehead at the blunder. Immediately seeking to correct the situation, he took the drink from Nathan's hand and set it down alongside his own, then pulled the younger man away from the women's gaze and over to a chair near the corner. He pushed Nathan into the seat then wagged a finger in front of him. "Never," he began in a hushed voice so the women would not hear. "And I mean _never_," and just for good measure he added one more. "_Never_ tell a woman she talks too much!"

As Nathan began to protest, he didn't mean anything by it, just that the two women had basically been talking continuously, leaving no room for either he or Lee to say anything. That's all he meant. "I just..." Nathan tried to explain.

But Lee wouldn't let him finish, he merely tick-tocked a finger in front of him every time he tried to begin his reasoning anew, shaking his head with a no at each instance.

Finally, Nathan gave up and sighed, resigned to Lee's authority on the matter. He was older and married, he must know more about these things.

Lee sighed too, relieved to have contained the situation. He tapped Nathan on his arm. "It's okay, you'll get it," Lee informed him reassuringly, of this business of courting women, then straightened away from Nathan, and sighed again. Could he really be that green? he wondered. Could Nathan really be that green? This was certainly going to be fun to watch, he thought. The poor guy, and this was just the beginning. Just the beginning.

The blunder smoothed over, the group proceeded to enjoy their dinner, with appropriate compliments to the hosts for hosting, and general commentary about Hope Valley. The conversation could not ever be described as scintillating but rather of the ordinary, but it suited Elizabeth and the longer the evening went on the more relaxed she grew.

"Some more potatoes, Constable?" Rosemary asked, noticing his plate was almost empty.

"It's Nathan, please," Nathan corrected, then shook his head. "Thank you, but I couldn't eat another bite," he said.

"You most certainly can!" Rosemary replied forcefully, but smiled away the seemingly harsh words. "There's dessert yet!" she reminded him.

"Oh, absolutely, there's room for that!" Nathan laughed in agreement.

Rosemary smiled, pleased at his response, then turned back to her own plate, raising a fork to her mouth. She stopped midway, realizing she too couldn't eat another bite, and yet she'd eaten not nearly as much as she usually did. Just something about food wasn't quite as appealing to her lately. She set her fork down and offered more roast to Lee, who happily obliged her offer.

It was later that evening, after Nathan had left to walk Elizabeth all of about ten feet home, that Rosemary stood next to her husband and sighed at their closed front door. "I like him," she expressed her opinion. "I think he'll be good for Elizabeth," she said of the quiet Mountie who radiated kindness.

"You like him?" Lee repeated, but as a question. "Even though he basically told you you talk too much?" he teased.

"I said I liked him, Lee Coulter, not that he was perfect!" Rosemary quipped back, before the two broke out in matching grins.

Outside, Elizabeth and Nathan stood at the bottom of her front stoop in the semi-darkness. "Well, I'm home," Elizabeth said, rubbing her hands together before clasping them in front of her.

Nathan nodded. He'd walked her home, alright. All ten steps of it. "I wish...I wish your friend lived further away," he remarked gently. "Then I could walk you home longer."

Elizabeth smiled. "I don't know that Rosemary would consider moving _just _for that," she teased. "And I do like having them nearby," she said honestly. "There're such a big help to me, and Little Jack," she admitted, with Nathan nodding in understanding.

"Will I see you tomorrow?" he asked.

"Don't you always see me tomorrow?" Elizabeth replied, noting that even before now they usually saw each other daily in some capacity.

"I know but...," Nathan said, but this was different, things were different now.

Reading what he meant on his face, Elizabeth said, "Yes, I'll see you tomorrow."

"Good. Goodnight, Elizabeth," he said.

"Goodnight," Elizabeth said, then stopped him as he turned to go. "Nathan, I had a really good time tonight," she said, wanting to let him know. Let him know that this first venture had gone well for her. That any anxiety she'd had had been alleviated and tonight, while not exciting or even romantic, had been exactly what she needed.

"I'm glad of it," Nathan said. "I had a good time too," he said.

Both sighed with understanding at the same time, then both uttered "Goodnight" simultaneously, followed by a mutual smile. Amused at how in sync they were with words and actions, Nathan finally uttered a final goodnight then turned and left. Elizabeth watched him walk down the length of rowhouses for a minute then turned to go inside.


	25. Chapter 25

It was two weeks later and Elizabeth sat at her desk in the schoolhouse, mulling the issue. Could she even broach the topic. Was it even appropriate? But it had been weighing on her mind, more and more lately and it seemed like the only thing to do was talk it out. Talk it out with Nathan.

Elizabeth looked up at a noise to see Nathan standing just inside he schoolhouse doors. Speaking of providential, maybe this was a sign, she thought. As Nathan strode down the aisle towards her, Elizabeth was already forming the words in her mind.

"Elizabeth," Nathan greeted as he drew near. "Did I miss Allie?" he asked, knowing he was a little late getting to the schoolhouse to walk her home.

Elizabeth was nodding. "She left a while ago with some friends," she informed him. "Nathan?" she halted him as he turned to go. "Do you have a minute? Can I talk to you?" she asked.

"Of course!" Nathan replied, that she would even question it. "What about?"

"It's about Allie," Elizabeth said, stepping from behind her desk to come down and gesturing to him to sit with her in the pews instead.

"Uh oh," Nathan said. "Something wrong?" he asked, wondering if his mischievous niece had gotten into any trouble.

"No, not with Allie. She's...she's a wonderful child and I care about her a lot," Elizabeth confessed. That was why she was even broaching this, because she cared.

"And?" Nathan prompted.

"And I think you might regret that we're...we're..." Elizabeth waved her hand between the two of them, indicating they now had a connection, one outside of parent-teacher. "Because there are some things I couldn't bring up just as Allie's teacher, but I feel I can now," she said, eyeing him intently. Did he understand? It was not her place to talk about this as Allie's teacher, but she was more than that now and she had a worry she wanted to address.

"I understand, Elizabeth, what is it you want to talk about?" Nathan asked.

"I wanted to ask you something," Elizabeth said, her words careful and full of import. "I wanted to ask you...what happens to Allie if something happens to you?" There, she'd said it. It was out in the open.

Nathan drew in his breath, truthfully a little shocked at her question. "Nothing's going to happen to me."

"Nathan," Elizabeth said his name, in a tone suggesting he be realistic. "Nathan, I'm a teacher. Probably the safest job out there, and I have guardians for my son, if anything should happen to me. No one is immune from tragedy," Elizabeth said, knowing a dangerous job such as his was certainly a consideration, but that life and it's uncertainties affected everyone.

Nathan sighed. "I know," he said, but tried to explain. "It just didn't feel right to think about that," he said. "It felt like tempting the fates or something," he said.

"Nathan, I understand that, really I do!" Elizabeth said. "It's the same reason people don't want to buy insurance. It feels like you're inviting the tragedy so it's easier to avoid it," she said. Nathan was nodding, so Elizabeth ventured, "I take it that means Allie doesn't have a guardian, other than you? Does she know that?" she asked.

Nathan nodded. "I never wanted to bring it up. I never wanted to worry her with things like that," he said.

"Nathan, Allie's a very bright girl. She knows you have a dangerous job. Remember the night the gun runners were arrested? She was worried about you, but maybe...maybe she was a little worried for herself too? About what would happen to her if you were gone," she reasoned.

"I don't know, maybe," Nathan conceded the point.

"Nathan, I don't think ignoring the elephant in the room is the way to go about it," Elizabeth told him, gently but truthfully.

"Elizabeth, even if I agreed with you...and I do actually...you know my family situation. There isn't anyone," he said. "My mother and sister have both passed and my father...well, even if he wasn't in jail he still would never be a consideration."

"I know," Elizabeth said, remembering all Nathan had told her about his family. "What about...what about...?"

"What about what?" Nathan asked.

"What about her father's family?" she asked, and then immediately continued at his look of surprise. "Not her father, I know he abandoned her when she was four, but what about aunts, uncles, grandparents? Did you get to know any of them before Allie's father left?" she asked, wondering if there was at least one among them suitable to be a guardian.

Nathan let out a long heavy sigh, knowing it was time he told her. "Elizabeth, there are things I haven't told you," he began, looking down a minute before raising his head to meet her eyes and begin the story. "My sister and Allie's father were...were never married," he said, watching for her expression, knowing what he was saying would be shocking. "He never left when Allie was four. He left when he got my sister pregnant. After he'd abandoned her, my sister never wanted to talk about him. That's why Allie is Allie _Grant_, not her father's name. Because..." Nathan trailed off, not even able to put it into words.

"Because...because you don't know his name," Elizabeth finished for him.

Nathan nodded. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to shock you like that," he apologized, hoping she'd understand why he hadn't divulged any of this earlier, that some parts of it were just too shocking for polite company.

"I'm made of sterner stuff than that, Nathan Grant. I understand the frailties of human nature," she said. Puzzling on it, Elizabeth added, "Is that why you said your father drove your sister to the arms of a scoundrel?" She remembered his words that day in his office, after Oliver had left, and he'd told her about his family.

"My sister was only 17 when she got with Allie. You know what our home was like, what our father was like. I think she was just looking to escape and she fell for the first man who paid her any attention. After, when my father found out, he threw her out of the house, so I went too. I was 2 years older than her and just starting at the police academy, but I got a job and supported her and Allie for four years until...until the accident and she was gone too. Then it was just Allie and me," he recounted the painful details.

"So you truly are the only father Allie has ever known," Elizabeth stated what was now obvious, both realization and admiration in her voice.

Nathan nodded. That wasn't why he'd told her. He told her so she'd understand why there was no one...no one else but him.

"What about friends, Nathan? Even though I have family back east, I chose two friends to be Little Jack's guardians, mostly because if something happens to me I want him to be raised here in Hope Valley. Are there any friends you could ask?" she wondered.

"Well, I have a few Mountie friends from my earlier days," Nathan said. "But I haven't seen them in years, and I don't think any of them would be keen to raise a child," he admitted.

Elizabeth sighed. They were running out of options.

"And I'd want Allie raised in Hope Valley too. It's the first place that's felt like home for either of us. But there isn't anyone here I could ask," Nathan was saying as he looked at her. "Unless..." the idea came to him suddenly, then just as quickly he masked it, being too preposterous to even consider.

But Elizabeth had seen it. Seen his idea, read it on his face. "Of course I would," she replied.

"What?" Nathan said, utterly confused. "I didn't say anything!" he exclaimed. How could she answer a question he never asked?

But Elizabeth had seen the question there on his face plain as day, and just as immediately her answer had come to her. "Of course I'll be Allie's guardian," she said. It was the most logical choice. Allie knew her, was already comfortable staying at her house, and Elizabeth already cared deeply for the child. What made more sense?

"Elizabeth, I can't ask you to do that!" Nathan was protesting. "It's too...too unconventional," he finally finished. They weren't blood relatives, and they weren't married either. He didn't even know yet what to call her...his girl? And yet she would do this?

"Nathan Grant, if you think convention is going to stop me when the welfare of a child is at stake, you're very much mistaken," she said firmly.

Seeing the stubbornness in her eyes, and oh he was just beginning to learn about that facet of her personality, Nathan took a deep breath. "You would do that?" he asked, just to make sure.

"I would," Elizabeth said with conviction and certainty.

"Okay," Nathan agreed with a nod. "I guess we just need to..."

"...go ask Allie," they both finished together and smiled.

x=x=x=x=x=x=x=x

"Allie!" both Nathan and Elizabeth called from the base of a cluster of trees a short time later. It hadn't been hard to find Allie, engaged in one of her favourite hobbies, tree-climbing. "Allie, come on down!" Nathan called up to her.

At Allie's "okay!" Nathan turned to look at Elizabeth as they waited for the child to descend. "You'll help me with the words?" he asked, uncertain whether he was up for the task, on whether this would go well.

"Nathan, you're fine with the words," Elizabeth told him. And it was the truth. Nathan might not be very practised with them, but he eventually got where he needed to go and Elizabeth was sure he'd be fine this time as well.

As Allie jumped the last few feet from the tree, she looked from Nathan to Elizabeth, wondering that both of them were here to get her, and said, "Uh oh, am I in trouble?"

Nathan couldn't help laughing. "I don't know, are you?" he teased back. Maybe they'd get some heretofore unknown information if they played it right. "No, you're not in trouble," Nathan conceded a moment later. "We just want to talk to you about something, or I do," he corrected, recognizing it was his job to do this.

"Okay," Allie drew the word out, resigned, like they had taken her away from her tree climbing to talk? Really? Was there anything more important than climbing a tree?

But Nathan was looking around for a place to sit. "Come over here and sit down," he said, gesturing to a couple of tree stumps.

When they were settled and Elizabeth stood nearby to watch and listen, Nathan began. "Allie, first of all, I want you to know that I have every intention of being around for a long, long time," he said. "I'm going to be around to watch you grow up, get a job, get married, whatever it is you want to do when you grow up," he continued. "I'm going to do everything in my power to make sure I'm around. Do you understand that?" he asked.

"Okie dokie, Uncle Nathan," Allie said, not really understanding where this was going but thinking, and not for the first time, that her uncle could be really strange sometimes.

"But I also want you to know," Nathan continued. "That on the very remote chance that something should ever happen to me, that you aren't alone. That you have other people in this world that care about you and that will look after you," he finished.

Allie blinked, not knowing who he could mean.

"Allie, what I'm trying to say is that I've asked Mrs. Thornton to be your guardian," Nathan explained to her.

"But you're my guardian," Allie countered.

"I know," Nathan said. "She'll be like your backup guardian. Okay? Is that okay with you?" he asked.

Allie looked between the two adults, trying to make sense of it all. Finally, her gaze stopped on Elizabeth. "You...you would want me?" she asked, disbelieving and doubtful.

"Allie, of course I do! I love you!" Elizabeth didn't know where those last three words had suddenly sprung from, she'd only seen the look of disbelief in Allie's eyes that anyone outside of her uncle would want her and Elizabeth's heart gave her the words, the true words, to assuage the disbelief.

Allie blinked for another second, then ran to Elizabeth and threw her arms around her waist in a fierce hug.

"Oh, Allie! Allie!" Elizabeth cried, surprised and moved, feeling tears sting her eyes. They hadn't known. Neither she nor Nathan. They hadn't known how important this was to the child. Elizabeth drew her arms around Allie's back to hug her in return, then laid her head atop the child's. After a moment, Allie drew back to look up at her.

"So does this mean I'll be getting all A's from now on?" she quipped.

Elizabeth laughed and placed two hands on either side of Allie's face to give her a playful shake. "No, Miss Allie, you'll earn your grades same as always!" she admonished the correction lightly and teasingly.

"Can't blame a girl for trying," Allie let out a mock sigh, as she smiled back at Elizabeth. Elizabeth looked over to meet Nathan's eyes, a smile on both of their faces. Her eyes bright with the glaze of happiness, Elizabeth tilted her head at him, acknowledging what they both knew.

It had gone well. It had gone very, very well.


	26. Chapter 26

Rosemary Coulter suddenly sat on the bench outside the barbershop, feeling...feeling...well, she didn't know what she was feeling. She only knew she'd been out shopping at the mercantile and was on her way home, a basket over her arm, when the feeling came over her and she knew she needed to sit down.

As she took some deep steadying breaths and tried to work it out in her mind, Rosemary realized she felt light-headed, almost faint...things she had never felt before, so it had taken a moment to figure it out. And it wasn't just today. She'd been feeling odd for the past few weeks in fact. And then there was her appetite, not nearly as robust as it once was. Even Lee was beginning to notice the change, remarking a few times at her unfinished plate. Maybe she was overdoing things, she thought. Always a busy woman, she'd kept deliberately busy the past few months. It had been the one way to take her mind off things, off the pain in her heart that on some days she just didn't want to carry, so she kept up a flurry of activity that helped to keep her not only physically active but her mind occupied as well.

It was there that Elizabeth came upon her about five minutes later, a basket over her own arm, in the midst of her own errands.

"Rosemary!" Elizabeth said. "How nice to see you!" she said at the unexpected encounter.

"Elizabeth!" Rosemary looked up from her seated position to feign brightness and energy, neither of which she was feeling.

"Rosemary, are you okay?" Elizabeth asked as she sat beside her friend, setting her basket at her feet, noticing Rosemary looked off.

Rosemary waved a hand dismissively, "Of course. Why wouldn't I be okay?"

"I don't know," Elizabeth said slowly, raking her eyes over Rosemary's face. "You look pale," she noticed.

"Pale? Um..." Rosemary was unaware of this additional symptom, since she couldn't very well look at herself. "Well, I think it's the heat. The heat's getting to me," she said.

"Rosemary," Elizabeth drew her name out at the fabricated excuse. It was Fall and while it wasn't cold yet, it most certainly wasn't hot. "Are you sure?" Elizabeth asked.

"Of course. I'm fine," Rosemary replied, tapping Elizabeth's arm reassuringly. "Now you go on with your shopping," she told her, not wanting to hold Elizabeth up.

Elizabeth rose to her feet uncertainly. Seeing that Rosemary made no move to rise as well, she asked, "Aren't you going too?"

"No, I think I'll just sit here a minute and rest," Rosemary said nonchalantly.

It was then that Elizabeth knew something was definitely wrong. Rosemary sit and rest? When had she ever? Elizabeth plunked herself down once more beside Rosemary. "Rosemary, you're not well, have you seen Dr. Shephard?" she asked.

"No, no, I don't need to. I'll be fine," she insisted.

"Rosemary Coulter, you're coming with me to see Dr. Shephard right now..." Elizabeth said firmly and as Rosemary began to protest, Elizabeth spoke over her objections with "...and if you won't I'll drag you by the hand across this street and trust me, it won't be a pretty sight!"

"Fine," Rosemary rolled her eyes at Elizabeth's threat. Now who was the dramatic one? she grimaced at the role reversal.

"Good," Elizabeth reached for her basket and stood, waiting for Rosemary to do the same. Rosemary sighed and reached down for her own basket, then rose alongside Elizabeth, for the first time thinking what a pesky friend she had. She was fine, and Elizabeth was just being pesky. Pesky, pesky, pesky.

It was a while later that Rosemary sat on the edge of the examining table behind the partitioned curtain, waiting for Carson to return after running what tests it were that he was running. Her hands were clasped in her lap and she tapped her thumbs together impatiently. She didn't know why she was even doing this. She was healthy as a horse, hadn't Dr. Shephard said so at her last visit to him?

"Rosemary," Carson said briefly as he pulled the curtain aside to enter the cubicle, pulling it closed behind him. In his hand he held a clipboard and he was flipping pages on it, looking over the numbers.

"So, what is it?" Rosemary tried to hurry him along. "The heat? Or I know, I've been working too hard. Or was it those pickled eggs I ate? I had a feeling something was off about them," Rosemary ventured all the possible reasons for her symptoms.

Carson looked over at her with a tender smile. "Rosemary, it's none of those things," he said.

"It? It?" Rosemary's eyes widened in alarm. He'd said "it", so that meant she had something. "It" was something. "What is it?" she demanded. "Do I have some sort of disease?" she asked, her mind going to the worst possible scenario as she leaned over, trying to read the notes on the doctor's chart in his hand.

Carson was almost amused as he drew the chart out of her reach. "No, it's not a disease. Unless you consider motherhood a disease," he told her.

Rosemary froze at his words, then tilted her head to look at him from the corner of her eye. "No, that's not possible," she reminded him. Reminded him of the trouble she'd had in that department.

"Rosemary, who's the doctor, you or I?" Carson asked with amusement that she was doubting his diagnosis.

"Carson, don't joke to me about this," Rosemary said, still unbelieving, still not letting herself believe.

"Rosemary, you are the last person on earth I would ever joke to about this," he said, knowing of the struggles she and Lee were having to start a family.

It was then that Rosemary clapped a hand to her mouth, too late to halt the wimper that had escaped. Immediately Carson put a reassuring hand on her arm, knowing the news was overwhelming. "Should I send Elizabeth in?" he asked, knowing things were about to get very emotional and maybe she'd want her friend with her. Rosemary merely nodded to him, unable to speak.

"Okay," said Carson. "And congratulations," he said to Rosemary's watery smile and nod of acknowledgment, with a tenderness and happiness in his own heart. These were the best days. The best days a doctor could have.

A moment later, Elizabeth entered the cubicle where her friend sat, a bit worried if truth be told as Carson hadn't told her anything, just to go to Rosemary.

"Rosemary, how are you feeling?" she asked.

At this juncture, Rosemary had recovered from the initial shocking news and she could not resist this moment, something in her nature compelling her to draw upon the great actress that lived inside her.

"Oh Elizabeth, Carson says I have a disease," she deadpanned in a serious tone.

Elizabeth's eyes widened at the news. "What?"

Rosemary was nodding. "But it's alright. He says it will go away in nine months," she informed Elizabeth, eyeing her intently.

Elizabeth blinked. Nine months? What kind of a di... Elizabeth didn't finish the thought as realization dawned. "Nine months? Nine months? Rosemary?" she asked, her mouth open in hopeful surprise.

Rosemary was laughing now and nodding yes. She batted her hand in the air. "Well, really about seven months, but nine sounded better," she joked.

"Oh, Rosemary, I'm so happy for you!" Elizabeth squealed, and reached to hug her friend. The two friends squealed and laughed and hugged for a few minutes, and then Rosemary grew serious.

"Elizabeth, would you do something for me?" she asked, serious but still smiling.

"Of course!" Elizabeth said, delighted to do anything, anything at all.

Rosemary tilted her head at Elizabeth. "Would you go find Lee for me?" she asked.

"Of course I will," Elizabeth replied tenderly, happy at the task, patting Rosemary's knee before she turned to go, pulling the cubicle curtain open as she left.

Rosemary drew a long, deep breath, calming herself as she waited. Waited for Lee.

It was a scant few moments later that Lee Coulter arrived at the infirmary threshold, drawing panting breaths as he stood there. Elizabeth had said Rosemary was at the infirmary and to go there, and Lee had taken off without even asking any details, so he stood now in the doorway, confused and out of breath. But more than anything, worried about Rosemary, about what was wrong.

At the sight of her husband in the doorway, Rosemary's chin began to tremble and tears stung her eyes. Oh, how she'd hoped to hold it together.

"Rosemary!" Lee's eyes had found her and he rushed to her. "Elizabeth said you were here. What's wrong? Are you okay?" he asked, worry in his voice.

Rosemary was smiling and nodding, tears in her eyes and Lee didn't know what to make of it. "We're okay," Rosemary said, too overcome to say much else. "We're okay," she repeated.

"Rosemary, I know I'm okay. I'm worried about you!" Lee said.

No, no, she shook her head. He didn't understand and she hadn't been able to get the words out, nothing more than what she'd said already. So she took his hand and placed it flat on her belly, her own hand over his and repeated her mantra, "We're okay," looking him directly in the eye, her words and gesture rife with meaning.

Lee looked from his wife's tearful, smiling face down to where she'd placed his hand. And he suddenly knew the "we" she meant, that there were more than just the two of them here together.

"Rosemary, how...how..." he faltered, not understanding how it had happened after all this time, after all the disappointment.

"How did it happen?" Rosemary finally got out for him. "Well, Lee Coulter, if you don't know how these things happen by now maybe you should have a little talk with Dr. Shephard," she teased, ever the quipping Rosemary at heart.

Lee expelled his breath, half laugh, half joyous realization. He touched his forehead to his wife's, a hand to the side of her face, taking a moment to take it all in. "Rosemary," he said tenderly. Then "Rosie," as he began to press gentle kisses to her face. He tasted a tear and pulled back. "No, no," he said at the tears. "This is a happy day."

"I know," Rosemary said. "And I'm happy. Or I will be," she said. "But first...first I have to do something," she said, tears still bright behind her eyes.

"What? What do you have to do?" Lee asked, searching her eyes.

"First, I have to let go of the pain," she said, as the tears slid down her face, unstoppable now as her face crumpled and she began to sob.

"Rosemary," Lee said tenderly and pulled her into his arms, just letting her cry. Just holding her and letting her cry out all the past hurt and disappointment and pain.


	27. Chapter 27

Carson Shephard looked up from the chart in his hand two weeks later and gave a deep sigh. It was two weeks later and Rosemary Coulter had returned for a checkup on her pregnancy. Perhaps two weeks was a mite soon to be returning for another doctor's visit but they both, doctor and patient, wanted to make sure everything went as smoothly and problem-free as possible.

"Rosemary," Carson said, as his patient sat on the examining table. "Rosemary, I'm going to ask you to do something, and I want you to know that I'm just being extra cautious, extra careful and that there's no reason to be alarmed," he said, immediately triggering Rosemary's alarm.

"Why? What's wrong?" she asked worriedly.

"Rosemary," Carson said, knowing he had elicited the very reaction he hadn't wanted. "Rosemary, I'm your doctor but I'm also your friend. I know how much this baby means to you and Lee. And I'm going to do everything I can to make sure you have a safe and successful pregnancy," he said with emphasis.

"I know that, Carson, and I appreciate that. But what's wrong?" she asked.

"Nothing is wrong," Carson reassured her. "There are some numbers that could be better and some symptoms I'd like to see less of," he explained. "So I'm just going the route of being extra cautious and..."

"And what?"

"And I'd like you to go on bed rest," he finally said, staring at her intently. At Rosemary's surprised look he said reassuringly, "Just for a bit, maybe a few weeks, just to be extra cautious," he repeated. "We want to make sure you have a sticky baby," he said.

In the midst of the somewhat alarming conversation, Rosemary couldn't help her amusement at his terminology. "Sticky baby? Is that some high-falutting medical jargon, Dr. Shephard? Because if it is, it's just going right over my head," she joked. "And I thought babies got sticky after they were born, not before," she eyed him in mock suspicion. "Where did you say you went to medical school again?" she asked, playfully doubting his credentials.

Carson smiled. "Rosemary, you know what I mean," he said. That want they wanted this pregnancy to stick, hence a sticky baby.

Rosemary took a deep breath, the false jocularity suddenly dropped. "I do know what you mean," she said, more serious now. "And you know I'll do everything you tell me to, everything I possibly can do and more," she said, reiterating her own commitment to her unborn child.

"Good," Carson nodded, before he looked down to write instructions on a sheet of paper. Handing it to her he said, "Now go on home and go to bed."

"Yes, doctor," Rosemary said obediently, accepting Carson's steadying hand as she hopped gingerly down from the examination table.

x=x=x=x=x=x=x

"Oh Elizabeth, I'm so glad you're here," Lee Coulter said in relief a week later, admitting Elizabeth Thornton through the front door his rowhouse. "Rosemary's going a bit stir crazy, being on bed rest like this, and I know she'll welcome a visit."

"Of course, Lee!" Elizabeth said, happy to assist in any way. The pair eyed each other knowingly, both understanding Rosemary's nature, but it was Lee who finally spoke the words.

"It's pretty ironic, don't you think?" he asked in a conspiratorial tone. "Of all the people in the world, it's Rosemary who has to stay in bed and do nothing. Rosemary, who never sat still in her whole life, who is the biggest bundle of energy I ever met," he said.

"I know," Elizabeth agreed, in a similarly hushed tone. "Who would have even thought it was possible for her?" she asked.

"Well, she's doing it," Lee said, something like pride in his voice. It had been a week already and she'd not gotten out of bed, except the few times a day to use the facilities, the only times Dr. Shephard had said she could.

"And I know she'll be happy to see y...," Lee stopped suddenly as a suspicious thud came from the bedroom above. His mouth still open mid-sentence, he turned to glance briefly upstairs. Maybe he'd spoke too soon. "Wait here, I'll be right back," he said to Elizabeth.

Lee Coulter ascended the stairs, then gently pushed open the bedroom door. "Rosemary!" he said, spotting his wife standing across the room, leafing through a pile of magazine on a chair, half of them accidentally toppled onto the floor.

"Oh, Lee," Rosemary turned to him, batting her eyes innocently. But Lee was already striding across the room. He hooked an arm around Rosemary's waist and back-tracked her all the way to the bed.

"Lee! Lee!" Rosemary protested, but it was no use. Lee's mouth was set in a grim line, he would not be deterred. As the back of her legs met the mattress at the edge of the bed, Lee gently pressed on Rosemary's shoulders, pressing her to sit. He bent down and lifted her legs, swivelling them onto the bed. "Lee really!" again Rosemary protested.

"Scoot over!" he ordered as Rosemary begrudgingly complied. Lee raised a sheet over her legs, then sat down next to her to press Rosemary back against the pillows propped behind her.

"Lee, really, I just wanted some new magazines," Rosemary said, having already thoroughly read the selection within reach of the bed.

"You're not to get up," Lee chastised her. "That's what I'm here for. You want magazines, you call me, or ring for me," he said, mentioning the bedside bell within Rosemary's reach.

"Lee, it was four steps! I didn't want to make you come all the way up the stairs when it was just four steps!" Rosemary protested, but saw by the determined look on his face that she wasn't swaying him.. "Lee, I can't be in bed 100% of the time. Dr. Shephard already said I could get up for...for necessaries," she said, politing referring to the necessary bodily functions.

"And are magazines a necessary?" Lee countered.

"No, but..."

"No buts!" Lee interrupted. "We're a team, remember? Your job is...is _that_," he said, pointing to Rosemary's belly. "My job is everything else," he said.

"Okay, fine," Rosemary sighed, knowing the gig was up and that Lee would brook no argument.

"Good," Lee said, pleased she was in agreement.

The disagreement over, Lee studied his wife a moment. She was wearing a frilly satiny bed garment, and she looked all feminine and pretty. She'd complained that if she had to stay in bed all the time she might as well do it fashionably. And she had, Lee noted, as his eyes raked over her form. Her hair was loose about her face, the wild blond curls framing her face, which was lightly flushed from their argument. She had that expression on her face, the one where she was lightly miffed with him and Lee didn't know why he found the whole picture so suddenly appealing. Something in his eyes darkened as he tried to reign in his thoughts.

"Elizabeth is here and I'll send her up to you," he said, trying to distract his own thoughts.

"Yes! Please do!" Rosemary perked up, the sudden change from petulant to pleased amusing Lee.

"Okay," he said, then leaned in to give his wife a husbandly peck on the cheek. Only it was too soon, too soon after the disturbing thought about how appealing she looked and his kiss veered to her lips instead. That too should have been a brief husbandly peck, but as soon as he touched her lips something flared inside Lee and her pressed his lips into hers, deepening the kiss. He heard Rosemary give a little squeak of surprise but it didn't stop him as he raised a hand alongside her face, stilling it under his kiss. He felt Rosemary respond as the kiss between them grew more intense, and finally he pulled away, putting a stop to the insanity. Both of them breathing a little heavily, Lee looked to meet Rosemary's eyes, a bit of an apology in his for what's he'd started. Rosemary blinked back at him, then composed herself enough to arch her brow at him.

"Lee Coulter, I don't think that's what Dr. Shephard put me on bed rest for," she quipped.

Lee hid a smile, and pushed himself away from his wife. "No, it's not," he agreed, then stood and moved to the door, turning at the threshold. "Now don't you get out of there," he admonished, wagging a finger at her. "Or I'll...," he trailed off the warning.

"Or you'll what?" Rosemary called his bluff.

Lee smirked. "Or I'll come back here and kiss you some more," he threatened deliciously.

At his wife's shocked inhalation, Lee laughed and turned from the room.

Alone in the room after her husband's departure, Rosemary leaned her head back against the pillows behind her. Oh, that man, she thought, puffing her cheeks with air and slowly exhaling as she stared up at the ceiling. He'd probably done that on purpose, she thought. Kissed her like that. Because there was no way she could get out of bed now, not with the way her knees had suddenly gone weak. Yup, he'd done that on purpose, she thought, followed by one final thought.

Oh, that man.


	28. Chapter 28

Elizabeth Thornton set her toddler son down on the grass beside her and called out to her students. "Now remember, everyone, identify as many plants as you can. If you don't know what something is, draw a picture of it and we'll try to identify it later," she instructed. She and her students were on a field trip studying nature, but she'd had to bring Little Jack along when her childcare plans fell through. Laura had been unable to babysit today and none of her other friends in Hope Valley were free either so she'd brought Little Jack along on the outside adventure as it seemed the easiest thing to do.

They were in a large open field, so there wasn't any real visible dangers anyway, even if Little Jack managed to toddle further than a few feet away from her, so Elizabeth felt confident enough to move amongst her students, helping them identify various flora of the area. She occasionally cast her eye towards Little Jack, making sure he was okay, smiling as he wandered about, plucking a plant or two then holding it out in her direction for her to see.

"Oh no, Emily, that's not correct," Elizabeth said, crouching next to the child, having watched her make erroneous notations in her workbook. "See, the leaves are serrated on this one," Elizabeth reached for a blade of grass, showing her the difference between the two grasses.

"Oh, I see," said Emily. "But what about this one?" she asked, plucking a third strand of a different species.

"Well...," Elizabeth began, then went on to differentiate that plant from the others, her words involving a short explanation of several sentences. At the end, at Emily's nod that she understood, Elizabeth looked up to the spot she last saw Little Jack. Not seeing him, she rose to her feet and scanned the field. But she did not see him anywhere. Fighting the rising panic in her throat, she called out "Jack! Jack!" Maybe he was lying down somewhere, that could be the only explanation. The field was open and flat, he couldn't have wandered further away. He must be lying down and hidden by some of the taller grass. She moved quickly in the direction she'd last seen him and called again, "Jack!"

At no sight or sound of her son, Elizabeth called to the other children. "Everyone! Stop what you're doing and look for Little Jack!" she gave the urgent instruction.

The children looked up from their squatting positions to their teacher, then glanced to each other with wide eyes, then quickly began to look and call out for the child. "Jack! Little Jack!" they yelled, moving over the field and searching through the grasses.

A short distance away, Cody and Robert crouched on either side of their discovery, looking down at it and looked to each other with worried eyes. Was it possible? Not knowing for sure, they both turned simultaneously and called, "Mrs. Thornton!"

Immediately Elizabeth rushed to the two boys. Had they found Little Jack? But as she drew near she still only saw the two boys, crouched and looking at something on the ground. Elizabeth gasped as she too grew near enough to see. It was literally a hole in the ground, not more than 15 inches across, but deep. Was it possible? Had Little Jack...? Elizabeth dropped to her knees in front of the orifice and called down, "Jack!" then shushed the children around her. Very, very faintly Elizabeth heard a soft "Mama" waft back to her.

Dear God in heaven! Elizabeth's heart jumped from her body and she began breathing heavily. "Cody, Robert, run to town. Get Mountie Nathan, quickly, as quickly as you can!" she urgently exclaimed. "Tell him what's happened!" she yelled at their backs as the boys had already taken off.

"It's okay, Little Jack, Mama's here," she called down the opening. "Mama's here," she repeated, peering into the vacuum as she tried to see but it was so dark down inside, so dark, while the other children stood around her mutely, comprehending the serious situation.

It was a scant minute or two before Allie, hovering nearby with the other children, called out, "My uncle's coming!" that Elizabeth looked up, relieved to see the bright red serge on horseback fast approaching. She could see Bill was riding alongside and that several of the other townsfolk were approaching too, word having quickly spread of the crisis.

Nathan neared the group, the first to arrive, and suddenly reigned his horse to dismount quickly and strode to Elizabeth, who knelt on the ground, her eyes imploring his. He crouched beside her, lifting a portable lantern to shine it into the opening.

"I just took my eyes off him for a minute!" Elizabeth was wailing. "Just a minute!" she cried, trying to fight back tears.

"Elizabeth, you couldn't have known this was here," Nathan said, and rightly. Who would ever have expected such a thing? "Wait, I think I see him," Nathan said, spotting slight movement below. The child was about 25 feet down, down whatever this thing was.

"What is it?" Bill Avery said from behind, having dismounted and approached the scene.

"I don't know," Nathan was shaking his head, looking at the opening. "Something...something from the mine, maybe?" he asked, knowing this had once been a mining town.

The mine? Bill Avery turned to the group of approaching townsfolk. If this was something from the mine they needed an expert. "Someone go get Henry Gowen up here!" he commanded.

"Nathan? Nathan?" it was Elizabeth in a pleading tone. "How are we going to get him out?" she asked, her tear streaked face turned to his, her eyes pained. "How are we going to get my baby out?" she asked again, her voice catching on the words. It seemed almost impossible, a small child down a deep dark narrow hole, more than 25 feet down.

"Elizabeth, we'll get him out," Nathan said reassuringly, reaching a hand to squeeze Elizabeth's arm, then staring intently into her eyes, he repeated his words. "We'll get him out," as Elizabeth choked back her tears and nodded to him, knowing she needed to be strong right now, strong for Little Jack.

Nathan swiveled towards Bill Avery. "We'll need rope, a harness, shovels...," he tried to think of all the possible supplies they could use.

"Okay, we'll get them," Bill was saying.

Back at their rowhouse, Lee Coulter was eyeing his wife worriedly. "Rosemary, do you think you should...?" he asked.

Word had come, word had come to them about the crisis and Rosemary was making ready to go to her. To go to Elizabeth and Little Jack. She was only freshly off her few weeks of bed rest and Lee didn't know if she was up for the added stress of witnessing such a situation, that is might hurt her or the baby.

"Lee, I can't _not _go," she said. "I have to be there for Elizabeth...and for Little Jack," she said.

"I know, but I can go, you can just as easily stay here," he said, concern in his voice.

But Rosemary was shaking her head. "I'll worry more here than there," she said simply. Knowing she was right, Lee finally nodded.

"Okay," he said. "Let's go."

Henry Gowen puffed as he raced across the field, summoned to the situation by word of the crisis. He came up short at the sight of the opening in the ground, his eyes taking in the scene, and knowing, knowing what it was.

"What is it, Henry? What is this thing?" Bill demanded an answer, his arm stretched tight as he pointed to the ground.

"It's a ventilation shaft," Henry told him, unable to meet his eyes as he swallowed air and he tried to slow his breathing. "It's a ventilation shaft from the mine," he said of the narrow opening used to draw fresh air into the mine below, any protective barrier around it long ago lost to the elements.

"The mine?" Bill Avery almost shouted. "The mine closed over 6 years ago, Henry. Shouldn't this have been sealed off?"

"It should have been," Henry said, the words painful for him. It was his responsibility. His. After the mine closed it was his responsibility to see that all such air ways had been sealed off. But it looked like this one had been missed and he had failed once again.

Bill Avery expelled his breath. "Well, we can't worry about that now," he said. "Tell us how to get the child out. Can we dig the opening bigger?" he asked, knowing it's present size wouldn't allow them to send anyone down after the child.

But Henry was shaking his head. "I wouldn't advise that, Bill," he said. "The shafts weren't built with much supports, and they've probably rotted by now. You try and dig it bigger and it's likely to collapse on itself," he opined.

"Okay, what if we go in through the mine opening, get to him that way?" Bill asked.

"The entrance to the mine was blasted closed years ago, Bill, you know that," Henry said. "Take weeks to dig it open," Henry said as the men sighed in frustration. They didn't have weeks. They didn't have days even. It was Fall and the nights got cold, it must be even colder all that way down. They needed to get the child out and soon.

"What about digging another shaft, parallel to this one, and then digging sideways over to Little Jack?" this suggestion came from Nathan as the three men conferred.

"Possibly," Henry was saying, but both Bill and Nathan sensed reluctance in his voice.

"What? What is it, Henry? Don't hold back anything now," he commanded, knowing now was not the time to pussy-foot around the issue. They needed cold hard facts and they needed them now.

"Digging a parallel shaft might work, but if you hit a spring, you'll flood it out," he said, noting that dire consequence, one that was worse to contemplate that even what was before them now.

"You aren't giving us many options here, Henry," Bill said forcefully. "Tell us what to do, Henry. How do we get him out?"

"Well...," Henry paused, then continued. "I think the best way to get the boy out is the same way he went in. Those shaft walls have held up this long and I think as long as you don't disturb them they'll still hold," he said.

"But how?" asked Bill. "No man will fit down there," Bill said, his eye drawn to the small opening.

"Not a man," Henry conceded. "A boy maybe," he added the suggestion, as the three men suddenly eyed each other in realization of what might work.

"I can do it, Uncle Nathan," it was Allie, listening to the conversation, who suddenly stepped forward. "I can do it," she repeated, standing before them, as three pair's of men's eyes suddenly turned to fix on the child, their postures frozen in stunned surprise.

"Allie?" it was Nathan, the first to move, who approached the child and crouched before her. "Allie?" he said again, scanning her face. But he read no bravado there, just the innocence and honesty and certainty of a child.

"I can do it, Uncle Nathan," Allie said again. "I'm little, I'm the best climber, and Little Jack knows me so he won't be scared," she calmly told him.

Nathan scanned her face some more, reading only pure intent, no bravado, no boasting and no fear. His mind worked quickly as there wasn't a lot of time. His eyes never left hers and slowly, very slowly, he began to nod, then reached a hand to squeeze Allie's arm. "Okay," he said softly.

"NO!" the cry came from Elizabeth, who'd been standing not far away and who'd overheard the exchange, her eyes wide in horror. "NO, Nathan, NO!" she cried again, as Nathan rose to his feet, and pulled her a few feet away, clasping her by the arms. "NO, Nathan, I won't let you!" she cried. "I won't let you risk your child for mine!" she cried at this fresh horror. Not both of them. Not both of them down there. The thought was too much to bear. "NO!" she cried frantically.

Nathan gave Elizabeth a small shake as he squeezed her arms. "Elizabeth, Allie's right. She is Little Jack's best chance," he tried to reason with her. Allie really was the best hope, the best climber and she had no fear of heights. All those years climbing trees. And she was small, and Little Jack knew her, was comfortable with her. "I'll get them out, Elizabeth," he told her. I'll get them both out," he repeated. It was an impossible promise but he made it anyway as Elizabeth continued shaking her head from side to side, then suddenly raised her hands to cover her face and turned away. She could not watch. She could not watch this new horror. Immediately, Rosemary Coulter, hovering nearby, drew Elizabeth into her arms to comfort her. Rosemary nodded to Nathan, letting him know she would take care of Elizabeth while he did what he needed to do.

"Okay, we need some rope and the harness," Nathan turned back to instruct the men helping with the rescue.

It was a short time later that Allie, wearing her pantaloons since the fabric of her dress would impede her, and fitted with a harness, a mine light around her forehead, was listening to her uncle's instructions.

"Pull once on the rope to mean stop," he said. "Twice is go. Okay, have you got that?" he asked. Allie nodded in understanding. He took her by the hand and headed to the ventilation shaft. He crouched low while Allie sat down, twisting her body so her feet hung into the orifice while she sat on the edge. Nathan raised a hand to touch her face, looking her in the eye and giving her a small smile as Allie nodded back to him, ready to begin.

"Wait!" it was Henry Gowen. "Please, can I help?" he begged.

Nathan looked around. Already five men were holding the end of the rope, Jesse, Lee, Bill and a few others. How many men did they need to lower one small child below ground?

"Here, Henry, take my place," Bill Avery said, taking pity on what he was coming to think of as an old friend. Henry shrugged quickly out of his coat, then joined the men on the rope line, giving Bill a nod of thanks and gratitude as they exchanged places. Henry turned the thoughts over in his mind. He'd done this, this was his fault, that boy down there, and if he could only help in some way, it would be a small consolation at least.

"Okay, nice and slow," Nathan said as he turned back to Allie, assisting her into the shaft, her fingers and feet finding the small crevices of support as she lowered herself into the ground, the task easy and natural for her, the men releasing small bits of rope to follow her down.

At the shaft's entrance, Bill had come to crouch opposite Nathan, watching him execute the plan. Nathan held the rope between his hands as its length traveled through his fingers. He was focused and waiting, waiting for the signal. Waiting for the stop signal from Allie that she'd reached Little Jack.

A moment passed, then another, and another. The crowd, most of the town, stood around, silent, each eye directed to the one small spot of ground, Elizabeth stood in Rosemary's embrace, finally turning to watch too. A few whispers could be heard, their words indiscernible, prayers maybe.

Suddenly Nathan felt it. One sharp definite tug. "Stop!" he yelled back to the men, the rope immediately stilling in his hand. They'd marked the rope off in increments, to know the depth and Nathan looked now. Twenty-seven feet. Allie was down twenty-seven feet. Nathan took a deep breath, knowing he had to wait now. Wait for Allie to harness Little Jack into the second harness.

Deep down in the dark recesses of the shaft, Allie Grant maneuvered as much as she could in the tight space. She had reached Little Jack and was now working to get him into position to harness him. He was underneath her, sitting on a section of the shaft that had caved in, luckily preventing him from falling even further down. Allie had to drag him up beside her and then raise him higher above her. He didn't seem unduly upset. He was not crying, he only seemed rather dazed, but uttered a small "Allie" when she joined him. The harness now fixed around him, Allie spoke softly to him, "Want to go for a ride?" she asked, uttering the phrase she'd said dozens of time when she'd given him piggy back and horsey rides at Mrs. Thornton's. "Okay, here we go," said Allie and she reached to give two sharp tugs on the rope.

Above ground, Nathan Grant felt the distinct two tugs on the rope, and called back behind him, "Okay, nice and slow, nice and slow," as the men began to gently pull back on the rope. Nathan watched the rope as it traveled through his hands...twenty-five feet...twenty-two feet...and on, until at seventeen feet there was another distinct tug.

"Stop!" Nathan called at the signal. Allie had stopped them at seventeen feet. Why?

Inside the shaft, Allie had tugged on the rope. They were in a narrow section, narrower than the others, and it was difficult to maneuver both of them through. Little Jack was slightly above her and she raised him higher, pushing him up past the obstacle before she herself could ease through. Both safely past the stricture, she pulled twice on the rope.

Feeling the signal, Nathan let out his breath in relief. "Okay, go slow!" he called to the men as they once again began pulling back. Nathan watched the markings on the rope tick by, then stopped watching at ten feet, his eyes inside drawn to the center of the shaft.

"I see them!" he called, when they came into view, as the crowd began to bubble with excitement and Rosemary had to physically hold Elizabeth in place.

A few more seconds and Little Jack and Allie began to emerge from the ground. Nathan reached over and caught first Little Jack by his harness and then Allie by hers, practically dragging them from the shaft. Several other men moved in to also pull the children away from the hole and onto safe, secure ground. At the sight of her son, Elizabeth broke free from Rosemary's grasp and ran over, as Nathan worked fervently to free the child from his harness. Elizabeth skidded onto her knees in front of her son just as Nathan finished and he turned the child out to his mother's outreached arms before he turned to Allie, giving her a fierce hug then working to release her from her harness.

As Elizabeth rocked her son forward and back in her arms, a wave of relief washed over the crowd and there might have been a small clap of applause or two even, as the crowd shared its joy at the happy outcome, with smiles, and cheers and backslapping aplenty. Nearby, Henry Gowen did not show any outward signs of rejoicing. He merely wiped the back of his hand across his mouth, the gesture just a small display giving an inkling of his immense relief.

"My baby, my baby," Elizabeth was saying over and over, while Little Jack, more smothered in his mother's arms than he'd been in the mine shaft, uttered "Mama" a time or two. Suddenly looking up, tears in her eyes, Elizabeth saw Allie, standing by Nathan as he knelt beside her as the pair watched her. Elizabeth reached her arm out to the child, gesturing her to come, and spoke her name. "Allie."

Drawn by her voice, Allie went to Elizabeth, and slid to kneel beside her. With Little Jack in one arm, Elizabeth used the other to brush the hair off Allie's face. She pressed tender kisses across the child's forehead. "Allie, thank you. Thank you, Allie," she repeated over and over, continuing her tender ministrations, kissing her face, her hair, brushing dirt from her cheeks, smoothing her hair. Once, Elizabeth looked over to meet Nathan's eyes, her eyes bright and smiling her gratitude and she would not look away until he reciprocated with a half smile and half nod, before she redirected her attention back to Allie.

Allie glanced up under her lashes at Mrs. Thornton's attentions. This was different than Uncle Nathan's bear hugs, she thought. Not better, just different. And somewhere in the far recesses of her mind, there came to her a memory of another woman, the other woman, who had been like this. Soft and tender and loving, with a gentle touch, who'd kissed her forehead and smoothed her hair. But it was a long, long time ago and Allie struggled to hang on to the memory, the memory was faint and light and it flickered and was gone.

Nathan watched the scene before him and something panged in his heart. He watch Allie soak up Elizabeth's tender ministrations of love as if it were something new, not something every child was granted and had a right to. And his heart hurt a little that it should be so.

"Elizabeth," Carson Shephard spoke softly as he crouched down on the other side of Elizabeth. "Elizabeth, I need to check the children over," he said, not wanting to interrupt the tender scene of reunion but knowing he needed to. He needed to check Little Jack especially. While it didn't appear he'd broken anything or suffered any injuries, the narrowness of the shaft likely breaking his fall in several places on the way down, he'd still fallen a great height and needed to be checked over.

Elizabeth nodded in understanding and rose to her feet, drawing Allie with her. With Little Jack in one arm, Elizabeth hooked the other around Allie's shoulders, drawing her close to her side, almost attaching her there, like she would not let her go, before the trio turned and headed away with Dr. Shephard following close by.

Nathan rose from his place and watched them descend, the three of them, the little group. Elizabeth, Allie, Little Jack, and something in the picture imprinted on his heart. Or maybe it was better said that something in the picture claimed his heart. The three of them. They were his heart. Nathan glanced back at the hole behind him. "Bill, can you take care of that?" he asked.

"Of course," Bill replied as Nathan moved away, collecting his horse and following Elizabeth and the children back towards town. "You heard the man. Let's fill it in!" Bill Avery shouted to the remaining men, shovels in their hands.

And they did just that. They filled in the hole, entombing all the pain and fear and heartache it had held just moments before forever inside.


	29. Chapter 29

It was a week after the mine shaft accident and Elizabeth Thornton stood in her kitchen washing dishes. Little Jack was upstairs napping, but she still went to check on him every 15 minutes or so, still not trusting he was safe and sound. It was after the accident, when Dr. Shephard had checked him over and found not so much as a scratch, that Elizabeth began to realize the full extent of the miracle. The miraculous end to what had seemed would surely result in tragedy instead.

And so Elizabeth stood in her kitchen, slowly and absently washing dishes as she mulled it all over and over in her mind. How ironic that when she first came here to Hope Valley, Coal Valley then, it was a different mine accident casting a pall over the town. Only that outcome had been tragic beyond belief. This time things had been different. She thought, too, of how she had lost her husband Jack, and then afterwards it was her son Little Jack who was in peril. But again, that tragedy had been averted. It was as if things were repeating, history repeating itself, but this time the outcome had been very, very different from the first.

And Elizabeth thought about why that was, what it all meant. And the more she thought the more answers were beginning to form in her mind, like pieces of a puzzle falling into place.

At the slight rap on her door, Elizabeth wiped her hands down her apron, then walked across the room to open the door.

"Rosemary!" she greeted her friend.

"Elizabeth," Rosemary said. "Just thought I'd pop in to say hello."

"Of course! Come on in," Elizabeth invited, as Rosemary eyed her carefully as she brushed past her into the room.

Elizabeth had been so quiet this past week, ever since the accident. So quiet it was starting to worry Rosemary. She supposed it was natural, that such a near tragedy had invoked a strong response in Elizabeth. That it wasn't something to merely disregard or nonchalantly dismiss and move on.

"Can I get you some tea, Rosemary?" Elizabeth offered.

"No, no," Rosemary sat on the settee, and patted the seat beside her. "Just come and sit a minute with me and we can talk," she invited.

"Alright," said Elizabeth, and moved to sit down. "How are you feeling, Rosemary?" Elizabeth asked, referencing her friend's pregnancy.

A brief smile crossed Rosemary's face. She hadn't come here to talk about herself. "I'm very well, Elizabeth. Things are going well, for me, for both of us," she said, placing a hand quickly to her belly to reference her child., She rolled her eyes as if remembering, then amended, "And Lee too," remembering Lee was in this too, as Elizabeth smiled at the good news and the way Rosemary put it. "But how are you doing, Elizabeth?" she asked, as if that were the real question.

"Me?" Elizabeth replied, sensing Rosemary's concern in her tone of voice. "I'm doing fine," she said.

"You don't seem fine," Rosemary truthfully opined. "You seem quiet, really, really quiet," she said,

"I've just been thinking, reflecting, that's all," Elizabeth told her.

"And what are you thinking?" Rosemary prodded.

Elizabeth inhaled deeply. She didn't know if Rosemary was ready to hear all this. She didn't know even if she'd sorted it all out in her mind yet. But she would try. Try to tell her what she was thinking and feeling. Slowly she began. "I've been thinking about...about God's plan for me," she said, casting an eye towards Rosemary to see her reaction to that. At Rosemary's look of mere interest, she continued. "I've been thinking about God's plan for me, for my life. On why God took one Jack from me, but spared me the other. It's not lost on me that Little Jack was brought back to me by the two people I chose to let into my heart after Jack died," she said, acknowledging the truth. "In a way it feels like things have come full circle, with the mine, with Jack. It feels like...it feels like there's been a plan all along. I don't understand all of it, but it feels like God is showing me snippets of His plan and it's bringing me great comfort and acceptance to feel His hand guiding my life," she told her friend what lay in her heart.

"Oh, Elizabeth," Rosemary said, knowing that Elizabeth was opening her heart and sharing what was inside, moved that she would tell her these things.

"Don't you see?" Elizabeth said, the thoughts and feelings even clearer now that she was speaking them out loud. "God didn't take Jack from me, He gave him to me for the time he was on this earth. And I don't have to carry my grief forever because God has other plans for me. That He wants me to fulfill those plans and to love the people He's chosen for me and brought to me," she said finally. There was a small pause before she added one more thing, maybe an even more important realization than all the others. "And that maybe I need them as much as they need me." The words were simple, and honest, and pure, spoken from her heart.

"Elizabeth," Rosemary breathed her name, reaching a hand over to squeeze Elizabeth's hand in her lap.

"I'm alright Rosemary, truly I am," Elizabeth said, looking to her friend, wanting Rosemary to know she could put her worry to rest. Then she found the simple words to tell her, to tell her the state of her heart and mind.

"I'm alright, Rosemary. I'm at peace."


	30. Chapter 30

Henry Gowen sat on the stagecoach depot bench a few days later, a small suitcase at his side. He should have done this long ago, he thought, not knowing why he hadn't. God only knows why he'd stuck around for six years after the mine disaster, after his failures had caused that horrible mine disaster. But it was only that Hope Valley had some kind of pull on him. He didn't know why or fully understand it. Maybe it was just that Hope Valley had that kind of pull on everyone, and Henry Gowen was not immune.

But that was then, this was now. And it just seemed the kindest thing he could do now was to leave. To give Hope Valley back to the good people who deserved to live there, without him. Because what had happened ten days ago was unforgivable. That ventilation shaft. It was careless and incompetent that it had not been properly sealed after the mine closed and when all was said and done, it was ultimately his responsibility. And the fresh guilt was almost too much to bear.

So Henry Gowen sat at the stage depot. He'd leave it all behind, his business, his automobile, his home, everything. He could find someone to manage the business, and he would oversee it from afar, keeping everything going so that the payments to the widows would continue, but there was no need for him to remain here. Really, it was best for everyone this way, he thought.

As Elizabeth Thornton crossed the street, her little son Jack in her arms, she spotted Henry Gowen sitting at the stage depot. For some unknown reason, she felt compelled to go to him. As she approached him, she noted the suitcase at his side. He must be taking a trip, she thought, wondering why he didn't take his automobile. Where was he going that he couldn't drive there?

"Hello Henry," she said as she drew near. "Are you going somewhere?" she asked.

Henry looked up briefly at Elizabeth and Little Jack, then averted his eyes from her. "I'm leaving," he replied noncommittally.

"Oh, where are you going?" Elizabeth asked, wondering where his trip was to, when he would be back.

Henry shrugged. "Not sure yet," he replied truthfully. "Just leaving."

"Henry?" Elizabeth was beginning to understand this was not a trip, that Henry was leaving, for good? she wondered. "What do you mean just leaving?" she prodded.

Henry Gowen sighed. That he should have to explain it to her, of all people. "I'm leaving, Elizabeth. I'm leaving Hope Valley. For good," he said succinctly.

"Henry!" Elizabeth exclaimed at the news. She moved forward and sat on the bench beside him, setting her son in the space between them. Henry Gowen looked down at the boy now pressed close against him, then turned his head away, swallowing hard.

"Henry, why are you leaving?" Elizabeth asked, concern in her voice.

"I think that should be fairly obvious," Henry said. "After what I did...or failed to do. What almost happened," Henry said.

Suddenly understanding he was talking about the mine shaft, Elizabeth said, "Henry, you didn't intend for that to happen. No one is blaming you," she told him.

"You can say that? You of all people?" Henry asked incredulously, turning to look at her. "After what almost happened to your little boy?" he said, looking down at the child, who just at that moment looked up at Henry with the innocent wide eyes of a child. Henry swallowed again, shaking his head, then stared away.

Elizabeth stared a Henry a moment, not knowing what to say. There was no animosity in her heart towards Henry but how could she let him know that? Convince him of that?

Meanwhile, inside the businesses along Hope Valley's main street, people suddenly looked out windows, noticing the scene at the depot and whispered murmurs began about the possibility that Henry Gowen was leaving. Curious townspeople began to pour out into the street, appearing to idly mill around as they watched the scene across the way.

"Henry, I want you to stay," Elizabeth was saying. "Hope Valley won't be the same without you," she said.

"No, it'll be better," Henry said sarcastically.

"Henry!" Elizabeth's tone had turned pleading. This wasn't right, that he should go, that he felt he had to.

As Bill Avery left his office, drawn partly by the accumulating crowd and also partly by the errand he'd set out on, he too noticed Henry Gowen at the depot. He had been heading towards Henry's office, but he diverted to the depot instead.

As he came upon the trio on the bench, he stood just below the platform, first looking to Elizabeth who shot him a pleading look and then to Henry. "Going somewhere, Henry?"

"Going where I should have gone a long time ago, Bill. Away," Henry replied morosely, leaning forward, his arms on his knees and looking off to the side.

Bill looked to Elizabeth's face for an explanation, her eyes were still begging him, for what he wondered?

"Bill, Henry's leaving. He's leaving because of what happened at the mine, with Little Jack," she informed him. He understood the pleading look now, she was asking for help. And by some providential luck of the draw, Bill knew he had it.

"If you're leaving because of what happened at the mine shaft, Henry, you'd better find another reason," he told him.

Startled, Henry looked over and up from his position. "What do you mean, Bill?" he asked.

"I mean this," Bill said, reaching inside his jacket to pull out a folded sheet of paper. "I was on my way to your office to bring you this," he told Henry, raising a foot to the platform above and leaning forward to hand Henry the page.

Henry took the paper and unfolded it, his eyes scanning it uncomprehendingly. "What is this?" he asked.

"It's a map of all the ventilation shafts for the Pacific Northwest mine, Henry," Bill informed him. "I found it when I was investigating...investigating what happened to Little Jack," Bill said.

"So?" said Henry, still not understanding, looking from Bill to the page in his hand.

"So...I had some men ride out and check each of them, Henry, and they're all sealed. All sealed and secured," he repeated for emphasis.

Henry's brow wrinkled in puzzlement. "I don't understand," he said.

"The ventilation shaft Little Jack fell into...it wasn't the Pacific Northwest mine, Henry," Bill said with emphasis. Then just to be absolutely clear he added, "It wasn't your mine." It was true, there had been other mines before Pacific, smaller, less important ones that had started up and closed even before Pacific began operations in Hope Valley.

"It...it wasn't Pacific?" Henry repeated, blinking at the news, something hopeful flickering in his eyes.

"It wasn't Pacific, Henry," Bill reassured him. "You had nothing to do with what happened to Little Jack," Bill spelled it out for him.

Henry Gowen drew a long steadying breath with something more than relief, straightening from his hunched position. It was a small mercy, a small mercy in the sea of his failures. "Thank you, Bill," he said. "Thank you for bringing this to me," he said, sincere appreciation in his voice. "Can I...can I keep this?" he asked, holding up the paper in his hand. At Bill's nod, Henry carefully, reverently, folded the paper and slipped it into his pocket, the now-treasured piece of paper proving he wasn't a complete failure after all.

"Now you don't have to go, Henry!" it was Elizabeth at his side, making the hopeful statement.

"I think it's best if I do, Elizabeth," he said, shaking his head. "No one wants me here," he said. The slip of paper absolved some of his guilt, but it would still be better if he left.

"I do. I want you here," Elizabeth said, refuting his claim.

"So do I, Henry," Bill added his voice to Elizabeth's.

It was then that a peculiar thing happened. The people milling about in the street, watching the scene unfold, suddenly clustered to form a crowd close to the depot bench. First one voice was raised, then another and another, all repeating similar words.

"Me too."

"So would I."

"I'd like you to stay, too"

Over and over the words or their variation ruffled through the crowd, each eye on Henry Gowen as he looked up at the sea of people and the sound of voices. Slowly, Henry rose to his feet, unbelieving at the scene before him. The town, his town, assembled before him, inviting him to stay. Wanting him to.

At his side, Elizabeth's eyes shone brightly as she reached for Little Jack and rose to her feet alongside Henry. As they all looked out over the crowd, Elizabeth remarked, "See Henry, you don't have to go now. Everyone wants you to stay," she said. "In fact, I think this might be the shortest trip ever taken," she joked. "You didn't even get off the platform," she teased. She looked over at Henry and suddenly grew serious, reaching out a hand to place on his arm. "Welcome home, Henry," she said gently, the words rife with double meaning, the welcoming of a weary traveller back home but something else too. The metaphorical welcome of a lost soul returning to his people.

Henry looked over at Elizabeth and blinked, unshed tears behind his eyes, Elizabeth nodded with reassuring encouragement before Henry turned, looking out over the crowd. He took a step to the edge of the platform, then turned his body sideways to step down with one foot, almost as if testing the sturdiness of the ground beneath him, as if making sure it was all real. As if to give encouragement, Bill Avery reached a hand to Henry's shoulder, giving it a squeeze. Henry looked up at the gesture and soon his other foot joined the first, as Henry moved towards the crowd of people, drawn to them and their voices.

As Henry slowly, hesitantly, ventured into the crowd he was met with smiles and touches to his arm, a backslap or two but always the words, The same words, over and over. "Welcome home, Henry. Welcome home."

At the scene of the crowd, Nathan Grant and his niece Allie approached Elizabeth on the depot platform, wondering at the assembled people and what was happening, how it seemed to be something to do with Henry Gowen.

"Elizabeth?" he asked as he drew alongside her, a question in his eyes.

"It's alright," she said, assuring him it was a friendly crowd, not anything he needed to worry about. "It's alright...it's just..." she trailed off, her eyes intently ahead, watching as Henry Gowen moved further and further into the crowd, embraced by the people of Hope Valley.

"It's just what?" Nathan prodded.

"It's just I love this town with every breath in my body," Elizabeth said forcefully. Nathan didn't question her words, just stood at her side as she watched over the crowd, Little Jack riding on one hip. Nathan raised an arm to hook around her shoulder to draw her and Little Jack a little nearer to him and placed a hand on Allie's shoulder as she stood in front of them. And then the four of them, Elizabeth, Nathan, Allie and Little Jack remained on the platform, silently watching the scene below.

Elizabeth didn't know if she'd find the words to describe the events of the day when it came time to write in her journal that night. She didn't know if the words would come that could do it justice, but if they did just maybe it would go like this:

Today was a revelation in the power each of us holds to heal a hurting heart. Because today I saw a townsful of people pour their love and kindness over a man long broken by his own failings. I saw the streets awash in colours of forgiveness and redemption and I saw what was once broken made whole again. And I saw it all happen in the one place more dear to me than any other in this world.

Hope Valley.

x=x=x=x=x=x=x=x=x=x

A lone figure dressed all in black stepped off the Hope Valley stagecoach the next day and looked around her. Everything looked the same, yet different too. She hadn't told anyone she was coming, not wanting any fanfare or show of excitement. That was the last thing she wanted after the last hellish ten months she'd been through. But her mother was gone now, that painful chapter was over, and she was free to return home. Only she wasn't the same person who'd left all those months ago. Things were different now and she was different, maybe forever, she thought on a long deep sigh. So there was no point in notifying anyone of her arrival. They would know soon enough, all of them would, all of Hope Valley would know.

Abigail Stanton had returned.

_Fade out, Season 7_

x=x=x=x=x=x=x=x=x=x

Author's Postscript:

Well, that's the end of my imaginary Season 7...cliffhanger and all! Sorry, I didn't know if I should warn you in advance the season was ending or not, as you can see I just sprung it on you! But this is where I imagined it ending. I feel I've gotten the characters and story where I aimed to go...Elizabeth and Nathan are starting a slow courtship, there's something brewing between Lucas and Fiona, Rosemary and Lee are expecting a baby, Henry has made restitution and been forgiven by the townsfolk, Nathan and Lucas are becoming friends, Allie is the true hero in all this and Abigail has returned following her mother's death. I also think/hope I conveyed the themes of revisiting a mine disaster from season 1 and also Elizabeth coming to terms with Jack's death. I think I'll continue writing (after a break, been writing pretty intensively the last month) as I know there's more to write with the E/N story, but if I do, any further stories are later, imaginary season 8 I guess. With Season 7 the whole story came to me complete after watching Season 6 so it was really just a matter of transcribing it. I don't have a whole Season 8 in my head, , just snippets of scenes so it'd be more like little vignettes and not a fully formed season. Just want to giving a forewarning about that, as I'm not sure what future chapters will be like. Anyway, thank you to everyone who has been following along and especially for the positive and encouraging comments, I have really enjoyed imagining season 7 and writing it all out!


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